The Grey Sith

India vs WI

2011-11-26T22:33:00.002+05:30

One thing heard, and another said

2011-11-20T23:02:00.002+05:30

Smt. 420: is it just me, or all my notes rebelling against me?
i have seem to lost 2 of them..n i hate to find for stuff..:s
brb

me: I lose notes too
can't find the right one
and it's damn annoying

Smt. 420: got them ..phew...

me: damn you
I just get stuck
searching
till I hit the right one

Smt. 420: listen i lost my notebook last week..
i had all my notes proper for once...

me: I can't play the tunes that are in my head
my loss is bigger than yours

Smt. 420: everyone wanted copies of it n what not..
i had to photocopy someone elses book...depressing that was
one note book i managed to maintain n i lose it :P

me: lol
have you not noticed?
I have been punning all this time

Smt. 420: as in?

me: read everything I said about notes again

Smt. 420: oh my gawd...

PS: There will be more posts about the lore of Smt. 420. Later.

An Evening of Interest (a.k.a the randomest thing you'll read in a while)

2011-10-15T07:56:00.005+05:30

Those of you who know me, know that I am a socially inept monument to awkwardness. I know this too. For the longest period, I have lived happily with the fact that the set of me, and the set of society, do not intersect. At all. I've been at peace.

Then recently, I decided that I should try to change this. I should go 'out of my comfort zone' and meet the world. During the period when I was thinking this, I happened to read a notice proclaiming 'Free Salsa Lesson' in the college bus. If you are of average intellect or above, you should know what happened next.

Common sense demands that someone born with approximately pi left feet should not attempt dances. And yet, philosophical me won this battle against logical me. I decided to attend this lesson. The turnout? Approximately the same number of guys and girls. Reassuringly, the guys looked as clumsy as I am. Worryingly, the girls didn't.

Round 1: the basic steps of Salsa
Paired up with a French girl
Considering how simple the basic steps of Salsa are, I would have to be an absolute cretin to do this wrong. Thankfully I didn't do this wrong.

Round 2: the first variations
Paired up with another French girl
This pairing was not so bad at all. We got along reasonably well, and the dancing wasn't a disaster.

Round 3: intermediate-1
Paired up with an American girl
Now this girl was very excited about the whole dance thing. We agreed on the sequence of steps we would do, and then we did them. This was exceptional (by my abysmal standards). Barely a foot wrong, and fairly smooth.

Round 4: intermediate-2
Paired up with another American girl
This girl was a legit trained dancer. Unlike the other American, she wouldn't agree on what steps to do. She kept telling me, 'In Salsa, the male must lead'. I kept telling her that I was a rank newbie, and that I couldn't spontaneously decide what to do. Result - pointless hand holding, and stepping forward and back for the length of the song.

Round 5: advanced
Paired up with the last of the three French girls
This pairing was an unmitigated disaster. Like the American before her, she insisted that I 'lead' the dance. I was failing so hard at this point trying to figure out which intermediate variations I wanted to 'lead' her into, that I was getting the basic footing wrong.

Poor women. Must've had the worst dance partner of their lives. Anyhow, I'd learnt something socially useful. It was time to head home. I stepped out of the student centre to be greeted by pouring rain. I stopped at the nearest bus stop. After five minutes, a girl unexpectedly plonks her bag next to me,
"Keep a watch on that till I get back"
"Uhm, okay."
Two minutes later, she returns,
"Hi! Some rain huh?"
"Yeah..."
We begin to make polite small talk. Then, out of the blue, she starts discussing the geography of ancient Mesopotamia, and how it was between the Tigris and Euphrates. I have no idea how I even kept up this discussion, but I did. Then suddenly,
"PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE WAITING FOR THE BUS!"
"Uhm, yeah, I am..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Buses don't come here after 6PM."
"Oh. I didn't know that. I guess I'll go to the bus stop on the opposite side of the campus then. Thanks, and b'bye!"
"Bye! Nice meeting you."

I walked in the rain to the next bus stop. In the bus stop, a grumpy man in a wheelchair stood beside a woman who I assumed was his wife. As I waited, an african-american (who I shall refer to hence forth as black, with zero negative connotations except the fact that it is shorter than african-american) joins us. The (white) guy in the wheelchair and the black man started arguing about something.

The bus arrived a few minutes later. The black man got into the bus. The lady followed. Then the grumpy man started telling the driver where he wanted to go. The driver (also black) politely told him that this bus would take approximately forever to take him where he wanted to go. The white guy started complaining about how he was a war veteran, and that that should stand for something. Bus driver didn't want to listen to him ranting, so he asked him to get on. At this point I realised that the white guy was very drunk, and the woman was not his wife.

Once in the bus, he sarcastically commented, 'It is so wonderful that this country has made such luxuries available to our guests.' (The bus was full of foreign students). He then continued to argue with the black man. He called the black guy over for a 'heart to heart' talk. Black guy retorted that he wasn't gay, and didn't want to sit next to him. After much argument, he finally agreed. Black guy wanted to avoid trouble, so he went and sat next to him, patted his shoulder, and said something to the effect of, 'Let it be man, why fight?'
But the white man wouldn't relent, "Don't touch me... I don't like being touched by your kind."
"Then why did you call me?"
"Because I like to talk to the darkness."

So, not only was he drunk, he was also a racist. He argued with the black guy for a bit, and then rudely said, "You're dismissed, go back to where you were."
The black guy went back. Now the white guy started telling the woman who I had thought to be his wife, about how great it was to be in the army. She was responding with an indifferent 'Uh-huh' to everything he said.

At this point, the bus driver was tired of his ranting, and said, "Sir, if you don't stop talking, I am going to call the police and have them drop you home."
"Thank you driver, that will not be necessary."
"That's what I thought."
"I would like to say one last thing."
There was a moment's silence, and in this silence, the white guy raised his hand, and shouted, "Give me liberty, or give me death!"

The bus driver absolutely lost it at this point. He stopped the bus, and got up to call the police. The white guy now started pleading about how he had asked for permission to say one last thing, and had not been denied by the bus driver. After much pleading, the driver calmed down, and continued to drive.

Realising that situation had now swung, the black guy started taunting the white guy, knowing that he wouldn't respond any more. Watching the white guy cursing under his breath and gesticulating was extremely funny. The bus driver was tired of their squabbling, and just kept driving. A few minutes later, the bus had arrived at my house, and so ended a memorable night in the USA.

Tipping my hat to David Caruso

2011-09-09T05:42:00.005+05:30

(Joke was mine. Just thought of doing it with the Caruso Meme. Sorry)

An Idea of India

2011-08-13T09:32:00.002+05:30

What is the meaning of India? What is the meaning of patriotism? We are taught in school to love our country, to be patriotic. That 'spirit' is instilled in all of us from a very young age. I don't recall a single person telling me what constitutes 'loving your country'. There are many viewpoints that I've come across, including,
-> Protecting the heritage and culture of the country is love for the country
-> Protecting the spread of foreign influences is love for the country
-> Shooting down (figuratively) people who criticise India is love for the country
-> Preserving local languages is love for the country
.
.
.

You get the drift. The problem is, I can't seem to agree with any of this. I don't really care for India's culture and heritage. I don't care so much for languages. I do argue with people who unnecessarily criticise the country, but I agree that this country is deeply flawed. I'm all for the spread of foreign influences. Do I hate India? I don't think so. I just can't figure out what it is about India that I love. There is so much cynicism everywhere. So much 'chalta hai'. So much 'it's somebody else's problem'. What do I love? I don't really know. I do know that it is a hopeless, unyielding love. But why?

I have no answers. Until I do, maybe I'll look at the lakhs of people who died for the idea of India. I don't know what their ideas were. But whatever they were, they were worth dying for. While I look for my own idea, maybe I'll manage with the fact there were once ideas worth dying for.

Messenger of the Gods

2011-05-14T21:28:00.003+05:30

I have seen Mercury, the messenger of the gods. (The faint dot forming a right angle with the two bright ones (which are Jupiter and Venus))

Click on photo to see the three planets together.

I has another fractal!

2011-05-12T10:19:00.000+05:30

A Barnsley fern, this time. It's not very obvious because of the complexity of the pattern, but it is indeed a fractal. You can just about begin to make out the self similarity in each of the fronds. Click on the image for a better view of the fractal nature of the fern.

That's a natural looking leaf. Generated through maths. How cool is that?

My first Fractal!

2011-05-05T12:48:00.006+05:30

A long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away), I wrote about fractals and chaos theory on my blog. That was here.

Years on, I finally learnt how to make a fractal myself. And here it is, my first fractal. It is what they call a Sierpinski Triangle.

*The author is now playing 'I'm so glad' by Cream in his head*

Quiztronomy is back!

2011-02-03T00:13:00.003+05:30

Red? Yellow?

2010-12-21T22:14:00.004+05:30

This is going to be a pretty small post - just a musing. Been working with photoshop a lot lately, and I've noticed something. The range of colours that lie between purples and cyans is defined as blue. The range of colours that lie between yellow and cyans are defined as green. Both of these ranges are fairly large. However, when it comes to Red, the range is very small. A little one way and you get pinks. A little the other way, and you get oranges. Same with Yellow - a very small range of colours is yellow. I'm talking only about these four colours because RBY are the three primary colours, and RGB is a popular method of colour representation.

Any ideas?

Lamenessness

2010-12-14T13:04:00.003+05:30

[code in hypothetical language]

#define koi_humse 1
main(){
int i;
boolean bool;
for(i=0;i less than 13; i++){ printf("Mastana\n");
}
char mera[7]="Deewana";
if(bool==koi_humse)
 exit(1);
}

[end code]

[puts on cool sunglasses]

Loop tera, Mastana,

Char mera, Deewana,

Bool koi humse na ho jaaye!

Sorry. I really am.

Google gains sentience

2010-12-04T17:46:00.002+05:30

Notes for the COAM External

2010-11-29T19:48:00.003+05:30

Hi,
I doubt you'll read this, but it must be written. Here are some notes that should help the next time you take a viva:

1. Why don't people use Pentium 5, Pentium 6 etc?
Probably because they don't exist. That must be most of the reason.

2. Today's processors don't follow Moore's law.
Yes, they do. Your insistence that they don't does not change reality.

3. Dual core processors are the latest innovation - released 1-2 years ago.
No. There have been dual core processors at least since 2001.

4. Shrinking the manufacturing process increases total power consumption.
This is just stupid. It increases idle power consumption, not total.

5. Process shrinks are the only way to increase performance.
It's one way. There are many others.

6. Dual core processors exist because it's impossible to increase the clocks on a single core beyond a limit.
It can be done, refer Pentium 4. Dual cores exist because they're better at handling multitasking.

7. Pentium 4 dual core is the latest processor from Intel.
The only thing good about this is that you haven't seen Intel's garbage advertisements for the '2010 Core Processor Family'. You know what's bad? You don't read newspapers, or watch TV.

If you do read this, at least you will know that the world's changed since Ray-Bhurchandi was published. Just sayin'

Self help

2010-11-02T23:56:00.002+05:30

I saddens me greatly that there are people in this world who have read self help books, or spiritual types of books, and not read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Everyone knows that H2G2 has the biggest self help gyaan in the galaxy - 'Don't Panic' (in large, friendly letters, no less). What greater spiritual meaning can there be than 42, the answer to life, the universe and everything?

If you are a member of this group of people, please, please, remedy the situation by reading H2G2 as soon as possible. It's the best self help you could possibly get!

(Dis)Belief

2010-10-03T13:11:00.004+05:30

The Ayodhya verdict has come, and I've finally been able to have a decent look at it. I like the fact that the court wants an amicable solution that does not hurt any particular religion. There is one thing that riles me - the fact that the HC seems to have implicitly accepted (if not declared) that the Babri Masjid dome was the birthplace of Ram.

Too many questions come to mind here. But basically, how can anyone prove beyond doubt that Ram was born at that exact location? Does some scripture mention exact geographic co-ordinates? Just because people believe something doesn't mean it's true. If that's how the judgement is going to work, let me stake a claim too.

I claim, nay, I believe that the Flying Spaghetti Monster was born at the exact same location that is the claimed birthplace of Ram. Further, my scriptures say that FSM was born there before Ram. That is where his noodly appendage first touched man. I therefore stake claim to the disputed land.

The land must be handed over to the Church of Pastafarianism and we must be allowed to build a monument (probably spaghetti and meatballs) to FSM. According to the HC, this belief is all I need to 'prove' that FSM was indeed born there. I have not furnished a shred of evidence (because FSM was born thousands of years ago, before Ram), but my claim is as valid as the claim for a Temple there. Ridiculous.

There is documented proof of a Mosque there. There is specious evidence (?), if any, of a temple or of anyone being born there. So lets go by the evidence - build a Mosque there. Build a temple adjacent to it. And lets live peacefully ever after, not letting idiot politicians divide us again.

All wrong!

2010-09-19T21:10:00.002+05:30

I was searching google for the term 'books'. Google's collection of Related Searches includes 'Twilight books'.

This is wrong! Books and twilight are not related, except by the loosest definition of the word book.

Owned!

2010-09-16T11:11:00.005+05:30

Cutting sarcasm is a way of life. Circuitous speech is the only way I can talk any more. It's almost like I've forgotten how to talk 'normally'. The only rule is that if you're going dish it out, you should also be willing to take it in spirit.

I'm sitting in the car with my mum, she's driving. It's drizzling, and a film of mist begins to develop on the windscreen. She turns on the air conditioner to get rid of that mist. A few minutes later, the mist begins to develop again.

Me: You should turn up the AC, that should fix it.
Mum: The mist is on the outside, not the inside.
Me: Yeah, right. Just turn up the AC, you'll see.
Mum:

Then she flicks the wiper switch, and the mist gets cleaned up in one swipe of the wiper blades.

Now I'm silenced. Well play, mum!

It must be true...

2010-09-06T16:21:00.001+05:30

if Einstein says so...

Procreation

2010-09-04T14:02:00.005+05:30

This is a response to this blog post:
Existence
Please give that a read before you continue reading this.

(No, seriously!)

Now that you've read it, a little recap - Abhishek asks why people want to have children. I present my response to this question:

1. Because: They like children
Individual choice stands for a lot, and people like many things that make no sense to other people. There will also be people who must be in a relationship. Others will find that confounding. People want to have children, so they will.

2. Because: The BPL argument
A history teacher once put forward this argument to explain why you tend to see really poor people have large families. Poor people think that raising more children means there will be more people to support the family, and themselves. The said teacher had also, quite rightly pointed out - if there must be x number of children born every day, let them be born into a family that can support the children. The BPL argument is inherently flawed, but it is true.

3. Because: Cogito Ergo Sum
Man thinks, therefore he is. I like to believe that one of the most fundamental needs of the human race is the desire to gain knowledge. Knowledge comes from new ideas. New ideas cannot come about from an ageing, dying race of people. New ideas need new people - a new generation.

4. Because: Legacy
Another fundamental desire of the human race is to leave behind a legacy. Everyone wants to die knowing that someone, somewhere will remember them. For great luminaries of any generation, this is easy - their acts leave behind a legacy that will remind future generations of them. An ordinary person (by virtue of being ordinary) does not have access to this sort of legacy. Procreation is another way of being remembered. Your children will remember you. It's not as great a legacy as that left behind by a great scientist, but it's better than none.

5. Because: Anarchy
One of the reasons that the world at least attempts to control its excesses is so that something maybe left behind for the future generations. If the whole world were to go completely, and irreversibly sterile - it would be worse for the planet than it is now. Today you try to minimise using a fuel guzzling SUV because you want to limit the harm you cause to the planet. If there is no future, you might as well trash the planet as you go. And make no mistake - that is exactly what will happen. 2000 years of (recent) history point out that humanity is not a race well suited to compromise and agreement.

6. Because: It makes no difference if Humanity dies out
If the human race dies out, you only buy the planet a few million years. It's a seemingly long time, but not very long when compared to the age of the earth. A new dominant species will rise, and will eventually behave the same as we do now.

7. Because: Natural Selection
Natural selection is the reason why we're all here today. Natural selection exists on simple principles - the race must go one, and only the best of the race must go on. Consider a situation where the six billion people of the world have agreed to not reproduce. There will be people who will circumvent this agreement- let us say 2 million people, giving birth to a million babies. You can act all hurt about these people breaking the pact, but it will actually be Natural Selection acting in its best interests- the genes of those unfit to carry on the race, the 5.998 billion who abstained, are eliminated from the gene pool. The remaining million face possibly the best quality of life in modern history.

Finally - Abhishek says, "We exist, therefore, we protect existence." This is not a unique thought. It's just a rewording of natural selection. Every species exists to protect its own existence. There is nothing special about humans in this respect - it is a part of the instinct that every animal shares.

Those are some reasons for people to have babies. I don't agree with all of them, just some of them.

But Why?

2010-08-30T08:49:00.003+05:30

Pakistani cricketers leave me confused. They are, on natural talent, probably the best team in the world. And yet, their cricketers indulge in some of the most brainless behaviour you can ever see. Take Shoaib Akhtar. A brilliant natural talent, a sight to see when on form, and yet he had to go take performance enhancing drugs. Ditto Mohammad Asif. Easily one of the best pace bowlers in the world right now, and he goes and takes drugs. I don't get it. What is it that these people are trying to improve? Their speed? Swing? What exactly is the point!?
I can understand if someone mediocre like Munaf Patel decides to take performance enhancing drugs (and he hasn't, I hope). What is the justification for taking illegal drugs when you're already SO DAMN GOOD!?

And that brings me to Mohammad Amir. All of 17. Already heralded as the next great pace bowler. And then you see him indulging in spot fixing. Again, why? It's not like he is (was?) a struggling nobody who couldn't be sure of his place on the team. He was probably the first automatic selection before every match. Why risk all that for some money?

I find it very perplexing. I feel sad that the match I thought was such a brilliant marquee for the game was fixed (if even in bits). Pakistan produces such an abundance of natural talent... if only they'd think a bit, the world would be better for it.

Weapon of mass STFU

2010-08-22T20:41:00.006+05:30

Are you,
tired of windows fanboys screaming that windows is stable?
tired of linux fanboys screaming that linux is stabler?
tired of linux fanboys screaming that their OS is near impossible to break?

Do you just want them to STFU?The diligent folks working at Engineers - Very Insidious Ltd (E-VIL) have come up with just the product for you! We present for you, the Destructo Drive. Masterminded by the head of E-VIL, Dr. S.H. Ravan himself, this innocent looking usb drive guarantees a system crash on any OS.

Innocent looking Drive

Just plug it in, and get ready for the fanboys to be annihilated.

Destroyer of Worlds

Cake as a metophor for life

2010-07-08T21:46:00.004+05:30

Just the other day, I was talking to VRD, and ended up saying that cake is a metaphor for life. It was said in jest, but come to think of it, it is true. This is because cake, like life, can be bitter, sweet, dry, awesome, horrible, cheesy, hard etc.

Like life, cake has a lot of variety. Cakes can be confusing, astounding, magnificent or boring.

Most importantly, like life...

... the cake is a lie!

Political Statement Fail

2010-07-05T16:18:00.003+05:30

Honestly, I can't imagine Manmohan Singh/ Sonia Gandhi reacting any differently to statements like that

Talent

2010-06-26T10:28:00.002+05:30

Precocious Talent in the 20th Century:

Precocious 'talent' in the 21st Century:

How sad.

(For those in the dark: Row 1: Sachin Tendulkar, Eric Clapton, Michael Jackson. Row 2: Justin Bieber, Hannah Montana, Jonas Brothers)

Reassuring - I

2010-06-09T11:44:00.003+05:30

I'm heading home from Manmad. It's 1 AM, the train is almost two hours late. After waiting for a bit at the station, the train finally arrives. I pick up the bags and board the train. S-6 looks more like a 'General' coach, with people sleeping in the aisles. I finally get to my berth - it's a middle berth. The berth is set into place, and I'm about to lie down. I suddenly notice that one of the chains holding up the berth is not taut. The entire berth is being supported by only one chain.

It makes me a little uneasy, but since there's nothing I can do, I try to sleep. The uneasiness just won't go. I keep wondering, will a single chain safely hold up my weight? The uneasiness gives way to calculation...

Approximate oval chain links as rectangular chain links (Since I've never been able to calculate stresses in curved members with a calculator, and certainly wasn't going to succeed with mental math)
Therefore, the links can fail in shear.
Yeild Strength of Mild Steel - Approximately 200 MPa (Close enough)

Shear strength is taken to be half of the Tensile Strength - 100 MPa

Diameter of chain links - 5 mm (Measured by 'looking')

Cross sectional area - (Pi/4)*5*5 = approx 20 sq. mm (actually 19.63)

Load on chain links - 90Kg x 9.8 = approx 900N(My weight + weight of berth)

Shear stress on any chain link - 900/20 = 45MPa

Permissible Shear Stress - 100 MPa

Conclusion : The berth will not fall, even though only one chain is holding it up.

Reassured, I sleep.

Criminal Intent (or the lack of it)

2009-12-30T22:21:00.000+05:30

I'm only in college. I still find the lack of criminal intent in the people around me appalling. Really. Just the other day, I was on a public computer in college, when enthu pointed out one entire folder lying on the desktop. A particular set of students had downloaded a set of documents that they would copy entirely for a project. I don't really have a problem with people copying projects off the internet. There are times when the spark of inspiration simply does not come. However, when you're doing something wrong, at least DO IT PROPERLY. How can you leave traces on a computer that is accessed by a large number of people? And on the desktop?

I'd almost forgotten about writing this post, until (new character, YAY!) Gen. L. Oblivious reminded me with a 'lack of criminal intent' incident of her own. Gen. L. Oblivious is properly known as General Lee Oblivious. Now that the introductions are out of the way, the incident:

Gen. Oblivious : I'm spooked even when I walk around college!!
greySith : lol wtf... What's to be afraid of in college?
Gen. Oblivious : oh theres plenty...
greySith : Name one realistic reason
Gen. Oblivious : The other day... I was going through a RANDOM guy's phone to choose a pattern for the department sweatshirt and the next picture was... no prizes for guessing... mine...
1) staring at the ceiling in the boring math lecture
2) at the cafe house with a disfigured mouth chewing on something
and three more like that
greySith :@
Gen. Oblivious : Felt like I was being watched by Big Brother...

Now, I'm not the sort who would take pics of women without them noticing just for the heck of it. But, if I had to do it (for a bet etc.) I really wouldn't have taken pics of the girl and then handed her my phone to look through some pics. How daft is that!?

Some of you might say that criminal intent is only needed by people who do things that are wrong. I tend to disagree. You're online now, reading my blog. The internet is an unsafe place. Very unsafe. It is ideal to leave as little trace of what you do online as possible. Whether or not it is happy information or incriminating information, information on the interwebs can be used against you. Criminal intent does not only mean covering up wrongdoing. I consider it to mean protecting any information from people who shouldn't have it. On the internet, as a certain cartoon character would say, 'be wawy wawy caweful'.

Note: Gen. Oblivious is not to be mistaken for Captain Oblivious. She far outranks him!

For a few moments...

2009-12-28T20:52:00.002+05:30

... Matt Prior became the coolest cricketer in the world!

The world isn't ending...

2009-12-23T21:02:00.003+05:30

... in 2012. I will quote the same sources that are running around in circles with their hair on fire, screaming 'aaaaaaaaaa', claiming we're all going to die in 2012.

The Large Hadron Collider will become fully operational sometime in 2010/2011. I am sure that there is much truth in the 2012 doomsday predictions, but I have similar faith the 'LHC-will-be-our-end' theory.

Therefore, since the world will asplode in 2010/2011, when the LHC creates an all-devouring mini black hole, there's no chance of doomsday being in 2012.

There simply won't be a world to asplode!

Conscience

2009-12-07T21:24:00.005+05:30

The scene: fag end of a horribly annoying robotics paper. Have just reached a problem that is in two parts. Part 1, I knew exactly how to do. Part 2, I assumed would never come in a paper, and if it did, 'I'd figure it out.'

So now I'm there, 'figuring it out'. Three possible answers come from the three possible ways of doing the problem - 2.5 years, 3 years and 3.33 years. The numbers are running through my head. After a brief battle in my head, I finally decide on 2.5 years.

About three minutes later, the paper ends. The usual post-paper rapid copying session begins. I wearily close the answer booklet and keep the pen down in disgust.

The guy in front of me looks at another guy,

Guy 1: What's the answer to the payback period problem?
Guy 2: Three years
Guy 1: Great, I got the same answer!

Almost instantaneously, a demon and an angel appear on my shoulders. (Okay, so they don't, but we'll pretend that they did).

Demon: Go on! Change it!
Hands eagerly start looking for the last pages of the answer booklet
Angel: NO WAY!
Sheepish hands keep looking for that page, albeit more slowly
Demon: Come on! You haven't done this for three-and-a-half years. No one will grudge you this once!
Happy hands find the problem
Angel: Now is no time to begin.
Brain starts to think of the method that gives 3 years as the answer
Demon: Al..mo..st.. there!
Brain has decided the changes to be made. Hand slowly moves towards pen
Angel: You decided that 2.5 years made the most sense. YOU made that choice, now see it through, no matter what.

The whole 'back your decisions' thing suddenly snaps the brain out of the angel-demon reverie.

I'm glad I didn't change it. Turned out later that I had 'figured it out' the correct answer. And I'm proud I didn't give in. My sinless record in college survives!

How Dare You?

2009-11-24T20:50:00.005+05:30

A lot has been said about Sachin Tendulkar's 'I am an Indian first' statement. The author wishes to make it clear that this post is not a defence of Tendulkar. He does not need to be defended.

I find it amazing how pathetic the Shiv Sena has become. To launch an attack on Sachin Tendulkar, just to whip up regional hysteria. First and foremost- they said Tendulkar has played 20 years for the BCCI. I strongly object. Tendulkar has always played for only ONE entity, and that is INDIA. Of course, the concept will be hard to explain to these bigoted Maharashtrians. (The author points out that he is a Maharashtrian).

A lot is being said about 26/11 these days. During those troubled times, I remember an RBS advert. Sachin speaking in a comforting voice - 'I play for India, now, more than ever.' I remember that victory against England, to soothe frayed nerves. I don't remember where the MNS and the SS were at that time. I don't remember them demanding that Maharashtrian commandos carry out the operation. I don't remember them doing anything. On the other hand, a year later, with all threat to self gone, they went and protested in front of Leopolds.

I'm surprised that the verbal battle with Tendulkar didn't begin earlier. If you look back, the roles of politicians and Tendulkar have always been antithetical. Over the past 20 years, politicians have done everything to rip the fabric of this country apart. The BJP divided us into Hindus and others. The SS divided us into Maharashtrians and South Indians. The MNS is trying to divide us into Maharashtrians and others. And over that same period of time, Tendulkar has always been there. Always there to heal this broken country. While his bat talked, for those fleeting moments, we were not Hindus, not Muslims, not Christians, not any other sect. For those moments we were not East, West, North or South Indians. We were Indians. Bound together by the majesty of one man.

Who is Bal Thakeray, then, to question Sachin, OUR Sachin? What has he done over the past twenty years for India? Other than trying very hard to tear it apart, what is his contribution? What has he done for Maharashtrians, other than giving us a bad name? We are not bigoted, intolerant fools like the SS and the MNS. We're decent, sensible, normal people.

The whole 'divide and rule' thing is bit old, really. It worked very well hundreds of years ago. Politicians still get some mileage out of it these days. It's got to stop. And it will not stop until WE put an end to this. It will not stop until we stand united against this intolerant mindset of almost all our politicians. Are we all up for it?

Pity the fool

2009-11-22T20:27:00.005+05:30

Different things from the same night

2009-10-26T23:18:00.002+05:30

Went out for a friend's birthday party. A couple of things happened over the course of the night that I'd like to write about...

#1 - Talking to a friend, Sa,
Sa: You've tasted most of the beer we drink.. what do you think?
Me: Meh... it's so bitter, why drink it?
Sa: See, it's not about bitter... It gives me a mild high, which I like. The bitter doesn't matter to me.
Me: But aren't there better tasting things to get a high with?
Sa: Such as what?
Me: Adrenaline for one... not that you get to taste it...
Sa: And how do you suppose I get adrenaline?
Me: Bikes... Doing crazy things on a bike really gets the adrenaline pumping
Sa: And yeah, you expect me to do crazy stuff on a Pep?
Me: *speechless*

Ah well, to each his own...

#2 - Having dinner,
A friend of the b'day boy (I don't know him directly (the friend, not the b'day boy)) was trying to squeeze a lemon onto some food,
H: What the hell man, no juice in this lemon...
Sa: Arre woh nimbu nahi, mazaak hai...
H (signalling a waiter) : Arre bhaiiya nimbu laana... mazaak nahin
*laughter all around*

Ha Ha

So Beautiful

2009-10-25T09:45:00.003+05:30

It's the sort of thing that you can really appreciate after an annoying day. Having slept most of the day with a sore throat, fever and a nasty cold, sleep was hard to come by at night. Restlessly pacing about in the balcony, with nothing to do, I happened to look up. The sky was astonishingly clear (compared to last year). It took me a few seconds to orient myself. Suddenly it all came flooding back...
There was a distorted M, now setting into the west...
There was the 'V' (not for vendetta) of Taurus...
And there was an all too familiar fuzzy patch in the sky...

It was too clear for it to be true. I actually spent the next few seconds making sure that it was, in fact, Pleiades. And it was. Photographs are insufficient, when it comes to the Pleiades.

That photo is very nice and all that, but it is nothing compared to how dainty Pleiades really looks when seen with the naked eye. The wonder multiplies when you look through a telescope- it's almost stellar spam!

It's something you must do at least once in your life- see the pleiades in all its glory. Like the title says - so beautiful.

Death of Democracy

2009-10-22T15:39:00.004+05:30

Now of course, some of you will say, 'Democracy is a concept, you can't kill it.' No? Ask the Congress and the BJP. They just did. Let's explore the political scenario in Maharashtra by way of an analogy:

Consider the Congress to be the batting side, and the BJP the bowling side (since the Congress is trying to stay 'in' power and the BJP trying to get it 'out'). The performance of the Congress over the past ten years has been so poor that few would disagree with me when I compare the entire Congress 'team' to Chris Martin (batting). Now, faced with the task of bowling at a rank tailender, the BJP had the following options:

1. Tear them apart with a savage pace and spin attack ala Brett Lee + Shane Warne. It'll be a matter of minutes before the Congree folds.

2. Bowl part-timers (i.e. VVS Laxman, Rahul Dravid, Inzamam ul-Haq, SS Das etc.). It'll take a while, but it'll be fun, and Rahul Dravid might even get a hat-trick.

3. Don't do anything. The Congress team is full of such ineptitude that they would find a way to get themselve out even if you didn't bowl at them.

4. Get Brendon McCullum, MSK Prasad and Adam Gilchrist to bowl long hops and low full tosses at 20kmph. So many of the balls will be wide that they Congress actually stands to win in this scenario.

Guess which option they took?
Exactly - #4

I cannot fully comprehend how the BJP/SS managed to lose this election. It must've taken some doing, that's for sure. In a good democracy, people hope that the best people come to power. In an average democracy, people hope that the least evil people come to power. However, it is seldom that people have hoped that meteors rain down from the heavens onto every politician from every party that contested. This is one of those times.

What is most annoying is the list of reasons coming from the political parties:
1. Congress: The people have voted in favour of our governance (what governance?)
2. Congress: We have won on the back of our policies (huh?)
3. SS: We lost because the MNS took our votes (sore losers)
4. BJP: The EVMs make the Congress win (WTF!?)

Sounds more like a rule-book of fibbing. Idiots.

Growing up

2009-10-13T19:05:00.003+05:30

Is the time it takes for the Birthday flag in your status register to go from:

1 - Yipeee!! Birthday time

to

0 - Heh, it's my birthday

to

x - Don't care

Dereliction of Duty

2009-09-15T20:58:00.005+05:30

Every time I'm riding on a fly-over, the speed limits make me laugh. I can't exceed 30kmph on a fly-over? Really? Why'd you build one then? Speed limits on Indian roads are unbelievable. I find it preposterous that on the excellent Pune-Bombay expressway, the maximum speed I'm allowed to travel at is 80kmph.

I have it on good authority that the expressway is good enough to travel at over 200kmph. It's only around 220kmph that the first signs of vibrations begin to appear. Why exactly is it then, that an 8 lane express way limits your speed to 80kmph? I regularly do 80kmph on city roads, in the day time. And it's not rash. Fast and rash are different. The problem is actually one of complete apathy on the part of the traffic police authorities.

The procedure to get a licence is rife with corruption. I'm sure half the people on road today paid their way into a licence. Those who got a licence properly (like me) will agree that the procedure is laughable. You do not need any road sense whatsoever to get a licence. Therefore, you have blathering idiots on road, who have no sense of traffic, machine or ability. These idiots are the ones who ride/drive rash and kill people.

What's the solution? Revamp the entire system. Make it mandatory for everyone to get their licences reissued after a proper exam that tests most aspects of city driving. Sure it'll be tedious and inconvenient, but a line has to be drawn somewhere. In Dubai, issue of a licence is met with a party and wild celebrations. Here, it's nowhere as hard to get.

But what is it that the police does? Nothing. And the worst part is, they wash their hands off all accountability by setting laughable speed limits. The moment someone dies, it wasn't because the fool shouldn't have been driving in the first place, it's because he was overspeeding!? The police transfers all blame to the victims of the system, and merrily go about their work (whatever is left after the shirking is complete) .

If you were to compare our speed limits to the US, you'll find quite a contrast. Speed limits on internal roads in the states are around 30mph. That's about 50kmph. And our traffic police, in all their glory, sets a speed limit of 30kmph on a fly-over!? When will they learn that the solution is not to absolve the system of responsibility by blaming the idiots who made it through the system? The solution is to make sure that idiots aren't allowed to be on the road in the first place. The benefits would eventually outweigh the obstacles. Our roads will be safer and faster. Fewer people will die. Admittedly, it'll be a pain to get our licences ratified again. There will be a major public outcry against it (like when helmets and seat belts were made compulsory). The real reason is not the trouble involved. The real trouble is that most people will fail. But it must happen. I'm willing to subject myself to another test. As long as it does not involve wheelies and stoppies, I'm sure I'll clear it.

I'm looking forward to your opinions.

Of Embarrassing Things Heard and Read...

2009-09-02T22:46:00.004+05:30

After a long series of posts devoid of any new characters or embarrassing stories, GreySith returns with more tales that will make you laugh (or cringe). So, here are our principal characters:
GreySith
Enthu
M (for lack of a better name)
Poo
and quickGan, in a guest appearance

The scene:
We're waiting for a bunch of people to finish writing articles that might get them entry into the college magazine. There's a topic still to be announced, and M, Poo, Enthu and I are discussing what that topic should be...
M walks off for a bit to answer a phone call or something...
Enthu: I have a great idea - scent of a woman!
Poo: (strange expression)
Me: Yes, but what do you want the women to write?
Poo: (little grin) section 377...
Enthu: Yeah man!
Me: Come on...
M returns at this point of time
M: So do we have a topic?
Enthu: Ye..ah
M: ?
Me: Enthu, let's not go there. Do you want me to tell her about the other topic you had in mind?
Enthu: No...!
Me: You want to go home nah?
Enthu: Err yeah...
M: (misunderstanding the situation) WHAT? You had 'Do you want to go home' as a topic? That's soo seedy. What a horrid pick-up line!
Enthu: No no no...
Me: No, No. I'll tell you
Enthu: NO! I'll start narrating embarrassing things you said...
Me: It was 'Women are like cell phones- as long as you press the right buttons, you'll be happy, but you press the wrong button, and you're disconnected'
M: (WTF expression on her face)
Poo: (laughing)
Me: Besides, what's the worst you could come up with... the GE silicon thing...
Enthu: Hell yeah!
Me: I'll tell them anyway... So I was in a student meeting, explaining how we sealed a particular joint... and we had used this chemical called GE silicon. I kinda forgot the name at the instant I was supposed to say it. I remembered that it was two letters... some two letters. I ended up saying 'KY'. (both the girls burst into laughter) I did correct it though...
Enthu: Yeah I remember that one... There were all these impressionable juniors, and they were noting down what he was saying. And he said 'KY gel', not just KY.
Everyone was laughing at that point.

Cut to a little later, when quickGan makes an appearance. We've just got all the entries and we're looking at them.
M: Look, there's a guy with an email id like tush.something@something.com
Enthu: Jaane do... strange ids people come up with.
M: Imagine how weird it would sound to tell someone that id.
Enthu: Never mind that, someone is going to tell him 'duude you've got a tush in your email'
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Enthu: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
quickGan: I sorta missed the joke, what's going on?
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Enthu: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
quickGan: Arre explain the joke nah...
M: You know we're looking like retards with you two laughing like that...
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Enthu: HAHAHAHA... (looks at Poo and M) Look at them, they're completely stoned... HAHAHAHAHA
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA... my stomach hurts...
M: (probably disturbed by the sight of two guys laughing their guts out) Come on, we've got to go...
quickGan: (still confused) but why are you laughing so hard?
Poo: Stop already...
Me: Hahahahahaha
Enthu: Hahahahahahaha... 'you've got a... tush in your email...' hahahahahahaha

I have no idea how long we kept the (somewhat) annoyed M, confused quickGan and Poo waiting. But that was the hardest laugh I've had in long time. I hope you did too!

Gear Happy

2009-09-02T09:15:00.002+05:30

The other day, I was in Camp, and noticed this guy who rode past at high revs in the first gear. My thoughts, in order, were:
'Poor sod. No one told him his bike has five gears'
'Or maybe no one told him where the shifter was'
'He might also have thought his pulsar was an automatic transmission bike'

I love the gearbox. A well designed gearbox ranks in the same category as digital watches and soap bubbles, when it comes to making people happy. People accuse me of using the gears too much, but god gave us the gearbox to use it! Over the past few months, I've practised a ton of gearbox skills, such as engine braking, cutting down brake use by 90%, seamless shifting etc. It's a lot of fun.

People who ride (or drive) ATs have no idea what they're missing out in a Manual. This post is probably a little random, but is serves a purpose. I want to pay homage to the guy who invented the gearbox (and God) for this priceless gift to mankind. Thank you.

What's making news

2009-08-18T20:50:00.002+05:30

Seen the news lately? Here's your news round up for the past month, and the next month:
1. Swine flu - We're all going to die AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
2. Drought - No crops, we're all going to die AAAAAAAAA!!!
3. Terrorists - We're all going to die AAAAAAAAAA!!!
4. Pakistan - We're all going to die AAAAAAAAAA!!!
5. Naxalism - They're going to take over the naxal belt, then the rest of India, we're all going to die AAAAAAAAAA!!!

Not to say that these issues are not important, but really, do we need to be told all the time that we're all going to die?

(On a related note, I like how news channels have debates on 'Has the Swine Flu problem been blown out of proportion?'. We all know who's been screaming that we're all going to die.)

(On an unrelated note, an exoplanet with a retrograde orbit has been discovered recently. In case you missed the half second of screen time that this (newsworthy) bit got, here's a link.)

The drivel that is 2.0

2009-08-06T20:33:00.004+05:30

I've been using the internet since the early days of the technology in India. When 28.8kbps was decent. When 56.6kbps was blazing fast. When a 1MB file took an hour (or more) to download. I distinctly remember when HTML4 was the 'in' thing. I've coded some websites myself...

Over the past couple of years, the one thing that disturbs me is the emergence of the so called 'Web 2.0'. It's supposed to be this revolution in the way web sites are designed. And it is. It has made web sites glossy, cool and hard to use. Don't get me wrong- people who know me will appreciate that I'm all for the 'this looks awesome for no reason' funda. But not at the cost of usability. During the last year, two websites I frequent , CricInfo and The Inquirer, have undergone a significant facelift. For starters, the experience was horrendous in the first few days after the switch. And even so, after I got used to the new 2.0 interfaces, I have not noticed any real improvement in the usability of either site.

The only change I have observed is that the sites are now more bandwidth intensive (which does not really bother me since I'm on broadband, but you don't leave the tap open just because you get 24hrs water supply, do you?). They look flashy and cool, but the sole reason I go to these sites is the fact that they had excellent content. I fail to see how web 2.0 is a value addition.

I know it appears like I'm now cribbing about inconsequential things, but since you've held on for so long, I'll leave you with another revelation (it was to me, anyway). I have been used to the internet as it was for many years, almost a decade now. Web 2.0 makes me feel technologically retarded. Maybe this is what growing old feels like. When the young can adapt so easily to the new world, while the old struggle to keep up... I think those of you who have been online since as long as I have will appreciate what I say. Those of you who who are relatively new will simply have to wait for a few years before you too can feel old and feeble!

One thing's for sure, I know what my mum feels like when she comes across a computer.

Pastime

2009-07-24T22:11:00.002+05:30

I have just realised that I have developed a silly pastime when I'm riding. I tend to aggressively overtake guys with their girlfriends pillion behind them to see if they will try to return the manoeuvre. Childish social experiment? Yes. Fun? Absolutely!

Don't Panic!

2009-07-03T14:03:00.007+05:30

With that reference to the lord of humour, I'm going to talk today, about braking on wet roads. A lot of people tend to fall while riding on wet roads. This has a lot to do with the manner in which the brakes are applied on a two wheeler. Most people believe that on wet roads you must forgo the use of the front brake and use only the rear brake. This, is a very risky thing to do. I'm going to explain, with the help of a little bit of mechanics, how brakes should be used in the wet (or even dry).

Before we get to the braking though, a few general tips. The water on the road reduces the friction between the road surface and your tyres. While riding on a road with a little bit of water (i.e. not standing water), the water will tend to reduce the friction (or grip) available to you by about 15%. So, for starters, ride about 20% slower than you would on dry roads. Secondly, maintain distance between the vehicle in front of you. On a dry road, I remember rearset saying somewhere that you should maintain a distance to the vehicle in front of you such that you can see the tyres of that vehicle. On a wet road, extending this distance further, as much as a car length is a good idea. Additionally, avoid riding on anything that is not tar/concrete, i.e. painted signs, tiles, metal manhole covers, etc. That 5% difference in grip may be the difference between you being on the bike and on the ground.

Now, on to the braking part. Consider a two wheeler travelling on a stretch of road,

In the picture above, imagine the long straight line to be the body of your two wheeler. Consider four frictional forces in that figure. Fft and Ffb are the frictional forces at the tyre-road interface and brake respectively for the front wheel. Similarly, Frt and and Frb are the frictional forces at the tyre-road interface and brake respectively for the rear wheel.

In order to slow down the bike, without causing a wheel to lock up, the frictional force at the tyre-road interface must exceed the force applied by the brake at all times. As long as Fft exceeds Ffb, the frictional force at the tyre-road interface will force the tyre to keep rotating. If Ffb becomes higher that Fft, the tyre will simply stop rotating and lock up. This would imply that you should apply equal, but limited pressure on both brakes to brake safely. There is another factor though. The moment you start braking, the body of the bike tends to lurch forward due to inertia. This motion compresses the front shock absorbers and allows the rear shocks to expand. So, once you start braking, the picture changes to this,

Shocks are not perfect, and therefore will transmit force (even though they're supposed to absorb it). Therefore, you now have a state where there is a greater load on the front wheel than there is on the rear wheel. This means that Fft now greatly exceeds Frt. It is easy now to lock up the rear wheel, and correspondingly hard to lock up the front wheel, because the limiting values of Ffb and Frb have also changed.

This is the reason why bikes always have a stronger brake on the front wheel. The explanation above holds for dry and wet weather. The correct method for braking therefore, is to start braking with only the rear brake. Once weight transfer to the front begins, slowly start using the front brake, and reduce the pressure on the rear brake. This ensures that you're less likely to lock up either wheel.

Don't Panic
If you understood what I just said, you should be less likely to lock up the front wheel. Rear wheel lock ups are still possible. If you do lock up the rear, whatever you do, don't panic. Because the front wheel still isn't locked, chances are that you'll still be going in a straight line. Gently release the rear brake, more often than not, it'll start rotating again.
Always be prepared to fall. There's no technique in the world that can ensure that you'll never fall. You WILL fall, all you can do is to reduce the frequency. When you are open to the possibility of falling, if you do fall, you'll probably get up, pick up the bike and start riding again. If you believe that you can never fall, when you do, you'll be too stunned to do anything about it.

That does it for my first biking techniques post. Feedback on whether or not that was coherent and understandable is welcome.

Whuh!?

2009-07-01T23:16:00.005+05:30

The scenario:
Meeting a couple of friends over lunch. Harsh and I decide to give her a framed photo of the three of us, (taken before lunch) after lunch. The plan is laid out, Harsh makes the tricky part of getting her to pose with us for a pic before lunch rather easy. We gave the camera to one of the dudes at the restaurant. He took a decent pic, except for the fact that the three of us didn't really fill up the frame. Then, part 2. I faked a phone call and walked out of the restaurant with the camera in my hand (she didn't notice, yay!). Smooth until now.
I walk unto Main street, and choose to walk into one of the Fotofasts there (there are two, don't ask me why). I spent ten minutes there, just standing, because there was some sort of miscommunication between a customer and the woman in the store and now they were arguing about it. Annoyed by this point, I walked out and walked into the other Fotofast.
I placed an order for the photo we had just taken. I asked her the cost. She told me. Wasn't much, and was appropriate for the size. Then I thought it would be nicer if the photo was cropped, so that we would fill up more of the frame. So I casually asked the woman whether she could crop it. I assumed it would be like 15-20 rupees. She tells another woman there to 'calculate' the cost of cropping an 8x10 photo. I'm already 'wtf' in my head. Cropping is cropping, on a digital image it takes a few seconds to do and is irrespective of the size of the print! After performing her lengthy calculations, she tells me, 'It'll cost you Rs. 226.'

WHAT!?

1. This is robbery because they do not add anything worth Rs. 226 while cropping a DIGITAL photo. It takes a couple of seconds to do.

2. This is robbery because they want to charge for cropping according to the size of the final print!

Meh, I could come up with a hundred reasons why this is robbery. I obviously chose not to be robbed, and asked the thief... err... woman from fotofast to print the photo as is. Result,
I was unintentionally rude (only for a couple of awkward seconds though) to a friend of the recipient (because I was annoyed).
Happily though, the recipient really liked our gift!

Next time you go to get prints, avoid fotofast, the fiends. I find that 1 Hour Photo yields good results and is very affordable too.

IT IS NOT THE DILSCOOP

2009-06-23T13:50:00.003+05:30

Or 'the Dilshan' or anything of the sort. Common sense states that a shot should be named after the guy who thought of it. SO CALL IT THE MARILLIER SHOT. Because Douglas Marillier thought of it. And Douglas Marillier is one of the coolest people to have played any game (in the same league as Marat Safin, Shahid Afridi, Jacques Villneuve, Juan Pablo Montoya, Andréas 'KixeR' Sjölander etc.)

Remember that it is the Marillier shot!

In defence of fictional violence

2009-06-15T18:02:00.004+05:30

I've been playing a lot of Grand Theft Auto IV lately. For the uninitiated, here's the sort of stuff that you do in a typical one hour of playing GTA,

> Use the choicest and most vulgar language
> Break traffic rules
> Run over people on the road
> Rob people
> Shoot at people
> Kill people
> Run from the police
> Kill some police
> Drink
> Watch many characters do drugs

I'm sure some namby-pamby idiot is going to go running the moment he sees this post and insist that GTA be banned. It makes our youth bloodthirsty and violent. It's the reason that children are turning more and more towards the gun as an answer to all of life's problems.

And here I am, defending this violent, anti-establishment, anti-social game. And why not? For starters, the game carries an 18+ certification. Beyond that age, I understand that, by law, people are free to do what they like. To tell you the truth though, I played my first GTA (San Andreas) a couple of years before I turned 18. A friend of mine (L, to be precise) was playing his first GTA (Vice City) in his early teens I think... What does this tell you? Him and I, we've no history of physical violence. In the nine years I've known him (since before the time we became teenagers) I can recall not one incident of any violence, whether instigatory or retaliatory, on his part or mine. That can mean one of two things, either I'm lying (which makes this post pointless, so you've got to trust me on this), or that playing GTA has not altered our mental state in any way.

The question then arises, why aren't we out on the streets smoking, drinking, doing drugs, getting into fights, eve teasing etc. like the rest of my (metaphorical) brethren? Why am I not going to college with guns to shoot people I don't like? Why doesn't the ever-patient L never get impatient and beat someone to a pulp? We're no saints. I'm not going to say that the thought of punching someone's teeth off never crossed our minds. But there was this other thing. It's called a conscience. You would think that anyone with a decent upbringing would have his/her conscience bite him in the backside long before he/she killed someone.

That's it isn't it. Upbringing. There's your revelation. It's not GTA (or a hundred games of the sort (we still <3 you Duke Nukem) ) that make people violent. It's a bad upbringing. And all that these parents are doing, is shirking their responsibility and blaming a bunch of hard working and talented game designers for their mistakes.

So where does it begin? It begins when these modern day parents mollycoddle their precious (and pathetic) children and make them utter wimps. When you're a wimp, it's suddenly very cool to get into a physical fight, isn't it? Then, while you're mollycoddling these children, you don't pay any real attention to them. So these kids, who have learnt no values (but have learnt that they must only drink purified water for their safety) turn to games to pass their time. And that's where they pick up these violent themes.

Other targets for irresponsible parents include Tom and Jerry (too violent for our precious children), Speedy Gonzalez (makes our little weepy children racist), which are, hold your breath, CARTOONS!

Here's an excellent suggestion for these foolish parents, if you don't want your children to become violent, STOP FREAKING HAVING CHILDREN IN THE FIRST PLACE. It's parents like you that are making this world a more miserable place.

PS: Notice how arguments as compelling as the one above can be made for each of the targets that such parents have - cartoons, action movies, vulgar movies, violent movies, etc.

Fail

2009-06-11T21:00:00.002+05:30

Fail class III
Failure in female presence

Subcategory B
Failure at an activity that failee is otherwise capable of performing

Classification: Epic Fail

When Curses are Blessings

2009-05-24T16:16:00.003+05:30

Some of you may know, that we have a new Baba. Abba is passe. Make way for,
*drumroll*
The lord of the universe,
The protector of the innocent,
The decimator of the pseudo-scientists,
The instigator of scientific thought,
The sampler of the delicate rose,
The photographer of the beetle,
The Rose-Beetle Baba, VRD!

So you should guess why he cursed me. We were out on a little trip out of the city. Staying overnight at a village after climbing (and unclimbing) Torna. And we went on and on and on making terrible jokes about the new Baba. He took it quite well for most part, but as the jokes got worse, you could see his expression changing. From the calm and collected look he always has, you could see a pained look entering his face. Finally, he snapped.

[Useful background information]
VRD rejected an IIT to grace our college with his holy presence. Some say that if you know VRD's actual grades, you would have an accurate value of infinity. We usually get grades on a scale of ten. He on the other hand, would be scandalised if he got anything less than ten.
[End of useful background information]

Gathering his reserve, VRD put in as much sneer as a nice chap like him can put into his voice, and cursed me. He thought it was the most terrible curse one could give. He whispered, with a manic grin,
"You, GreySith, You who have insulted me, the holy baba, I curse you! You, will get the paltry result of NINE POINTS for this semester!" A frightening evil laugh followed.

I didn't know what to do. Here I was, struggling to make eight, and he curses that I shall have nine! I found it hard to supress my joy, but I heroically did. I looked at him, glum and sullen, as if it truly was the most terrible thing in the world. He was duly satisfied with my reaction.

The results have come around, and the guy who was struggling to get past eight, has ended up with 8.6! Truly, Jai ho baba!

Back to the pen, wrinkles

2009-05-19T17:51:00.002+05:30

The first news of Dr. Manmohan Singh's new cabinet is beginning to leak out. And the most heartening rumours are that Arjun Singh is unlikely to retain the HRD ministry. For those of you who are unaware, Mr. Arjun Singh is the man (?) who added another set of rules that make general category boys a minority. And it's not just the fact that he did it, it's the manner in which he did. It is quite clear that Dr. Singh had no intention of approving Mr. Arjun Singh's suggestions, so Arjun sigh leaked it to the media, knowing full well that once such things are said, thay can't be taken back. And as the country burned over the issue, Mr. Arjun Singh waxed eloquent about his suggestions. As the cornered PM finally relented, Arjun Singh took all the credit. Vile @^#$^@.

After the 2009 election victory, he tried once again to play the same game, saying that the Congress had been swept back to power because of his actions. And I haven't even started about the 6 (or is it 7?) 'new' 'IITs' that run in single buildings. Way to dilute the most respectable educational institution our country has to offer.

This bitter old pile of bones has singlehandedly pointed the higher educational structure of this country toward ruin (while doing nothing at the lower levels, which is where action is needed). He has punished us, the youth, for his incompetance as a minister of any sort. They say that the the more you complain, the more you act miserable, the longer god makes you live. How true.

And the man tipped to take over, is of course, Kapil Sibal. Thoroughly wronged last time around, he was the minister for science (or something like that, that no one cares for). This time might get a job where he can actually do something for the country. Go on Mr. Sibal! Show a bitter old man how the job's done!

A Letter to the Prime Minister

2009-05-17T12:53:00.002+05:30

Dr. Singh,
Congratulations on your emphatic victory in the Lok Sabha elections. Now that the elections are over, and you have won such a fantastic victory, we, the youth of the country have a few demands to make of you. Do not worry sir, we are not going to try and arm twist you into something you don't like. We are not the left, and with our votes, we are infinitely more powerful. Without further ado, here are but a few of our demands:

1. Save our economy. You don't have the baggage of the the left with you this time. You are free to push forward whatever reforms you think are suitable for our country.

2. Save our country. You will have a stable government this time. Take the actions that you think will benefit our country and protect us from our unstabel neighbourhood.

3. Get back Dayanidhi Maran. It's a shame that one of the best ministers from your last cabinet had to be removed from the post due to a tiff with Karunanidhi. His replacement, A Raja has shown his true colours by being caught try to distribute telecom spectrum in an unfair (and most likely, self beneficial) manner. We don't need such ministers.

4. No more tainted ministers. It was understandable that you had to accept Shibu Soren's demands to push the deal through, but no more, sir, NO MORE. Let capability select your ministers, rather than the number of seats they have.

Sir, you have nothing, absolutely nothing, stopping you from running this government they way YOU like it. Do not let the allies stop you from doing what is right for us. We have placed our faith in you in swept you back into power, do not disappoint us. Do not disappoint a country looking for hope, from an intellectual, rather than a politician.

Regards

The bridge that sometimes isn't

2009-05-10T19:31:00.004+05:30

Sometime in the 17th century,

Moin-ud-din called his men to stop. This would be the last stop for the day. From here on, they would march to Ambavane and halt there for the night. Torna was still day's march away. But it would fall, in a week, it would fall to the Mughal empire! The maratha spies probably knew of the impending assault on Torna. He was sure though, that he would reach the fort before them. A few minutes rest and then they would proceed to Ambavane. He sent two men to fetch water from the river nearby.

Afzal and Ismail walked the short distance to the bank. Unknown to them, the observer watched. They returned to Moin-ud-din, having collected the water they would need for the night. A few sips were passed around and Moin-ud-din called his men to start marching again. Ambavane was only an hours walk away, across the river.

The observer watched in dismay as the brigade of mughal soldiers approached the gate. The gate had been setup centuries ago by the great ones, and it transmitted once in a day. For men to be around the gate at this time would most likely cause the men to die. This was the reason the observers had been appointed at each gate. They were entrusted with the job of ensuring that no men were around when the gates functioned. This observer noted the time, 7:46 PM, local. In exactly fourteen minutes, the gate at the river would open, and in the process destroy the troops.

He mulled over his options. He was blessed by the great ones with the ability to move objects at will. Moving an entire brigade, however, would take too much time, and a few men would perish at the gate. He could cause freak weather, but he was sure the troops would soldier on. Precious minutes ticked by, he still wasn't sure what to do. The gate was beginning to open. The horses began neighing uneasily. That was the cue he needed. He influenced the minds of the panicked beasts and made them turn away and run in the opposite direction.

And run they did. As the foot soldiers scrambled, first out of the way and then after the horses, the observer heaved a sigh of relief. A few men were injured and the entire brigade scattered in the chaos that ensued. The observer made sure that the chaos directed the men away from the gate.

A few hours later, Moin-ud-din was a furious man. He couldn't make out why the horses had panicked when they did. With the brigade in complete disarray, and many men injured, there was no way that he would be able to mount the planned assault on Torna. As the sun began it's rise on the cold winter morning, Moin-ud-din wondered how he would explain this to the emperor. Some distance away, a contented observer looked on to his duties for the new day.

January 2009,
Two people, on a motorcycle were making a trip to a village by the name of Nasrapur. GreySith and Enthu, as they are known in certain circles, were out on a reconnaissance trip to check a site for astronomical observations. They had started late from the city and it was well past 7 PM as they reached Nasrapur Phata. After they turned from the highway, it had been an uneventful, if a little disconcerting, journey. The long winding road, without any lighting was beginning to give both of them a case of nerves. At that time though, both of them were holding on quite well. They made small talk to overpower the nagging fear of what they would do if they were ambushed by a gang of thieves in the darkness of the night. One half of an hour of riding brought them to the prospective site. They were impressed- the sky had never been so clear before. There was a certain joy in the difficulty they faced in locating constellations! Such was the dispersion of dim stars, permanently faded away in the city, that it was hard to identify the stars that they could see regularly from the city. They certainly were satisfied with the site. Enthu spoke to the owner of the site, discussing the monetary aspect of visiting the site for a day. After the discussions drew to a close, they set out on the return journey.

More of the same pattern followed. A little small talk, covering the nagging fear. It was as uneventful as it had been on the journey to the site, until Enthu suddenly felt a jerk. GreySith was bringing the motorcycle to halt, with all the effects- screeching tyres, a slight skid etc, turned up to the max. He was little surprised, then he looked up. The surprise was swiftly replaced by shock, as he and GreySith looked at a bridge that they had no memory of.
"Oh lord, we're lost!" Exclaimed GreySith.
"It cannot be, we've taken the same route that we took on the way here."
"I tell you, we did not cross that bridge!"
"But it's hardly possible, I'm sure we've not taken a wrong turn."
A little panicked now, GreySith repeated, "We did not cross that bridge on the way here. I am completely sure of that."
Enthu tried to get a hold on the situation, tried to remember if they had crossed bridge. The sith was right, they absolutely had not crossed the bridge. Realising however, that it was safer to be moving than stationary, they decided to keep going straight ahead. A few kilometres later, they were surrounded by the familiar town they had passed on the way to the site. Now relieved, GreySith ventured to talk,
"That's it I suppose. We must've missed it..."
"I suppose so... we're on the right road now, all's okay. Do you want me to ride back to Pune?"
"Sure. Works for me, we'll switch places at the highway."

At the highway, they stopped the bike. GreySith happened to look down at the instrument console of the motorcycle. Thoroughly unnerved, he blurted,
"We... we travelled three kilometres more on the way out..."
"Oh %@&#! We didn't cross the bridge then, did we?"
"I don't think we had, not on the way to the site. And I'm sure that we did not take a wrong turn on the way back. Holy &@$?... what the hell just happened?"
"I've no idea mate, lets just head home..."

A few kilometres away, the observer was amused. He had merely picked up the two diminutive humans and put them far across the bridge, so that they would safely miss the gate when it was open. Having done his job again, he looked forward to a brief rest before he resumed his duties the next day...

(The above is a highly fictionalised account of a true occurrence. Read a more realistic interpretation of events, the way Enthu saw it, here)

Pride

2009-04-23T11:50:00.001+05:30

And you?

It's PHENOMenal!

2009-04-14T19:44:00.004+05:30

Okay. I'm a DAAMIT fanboy. For the uninitiated, DAAMIT is the colloquial name for the combine of AMD and ATI. If you've no idea what's happening, now might be a good time to stop reading. To cut a long story, I recently upgraded from this:
AMD Athlon XP 2400+ (Thoroughbred B)
ATI Radeon 9200SE 128MB
and lots of unmentionable stuff,
To this:
AMD Phenom II X3 720 Black Edition (Heka/Deneb)
ATI Radeon HD4850 512MB
And to put it simply, the performance is phenomenal!

And to add the cherry on the cake, the tri core processor that I bought, is actually a quad core with a core disabled. I've successfully enabled the fourth core, and overclocked my quad core to 3.2GHz (from 2.8GHz).

And I built it all myself!

My own before and after pics :
Woohoo!

Follow-up articles (coming soon):
How I built it
Why we need DAAMIT

I wish you were here

2009-03-28T22:57:00.002+05:30

We went for a star party again day before yesterday. Nasrapur again. This time though, I had decided to take charge of the auxiliary arrangements around the star party and let the others handle the party it self. It left me a couple of hours of free time at the base. So there I was, with nothing to do. I lay down on the ground, looking up to the starry skies. As I lay there, one song came to mind...

The lyrics go like this... Play the video and read along...

I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
pretending I am weightless
and in this moment I am happy, happy...

I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here

I lay my head unto the sand
the sky resembles a backlit canopy
with holes punched in it
I'm counting UFO's, I signal them with my lighter
and in this moment I am happy, happy...

I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here

The world is a roller coaster
and I am not strapped in
maybe I should always care
but my hands are busy in the air

I wish you were here
I wish you were...

I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here

I wish you were here...

A great song, innit?

Silly but true!

2009-03-19T21:36:00.002+05:30

This morning, I understood the real meaning of showing off. India are playing New Zealand in a three match test series. Tendulkar was playing the last few balls of the day. The light was deteriorating and Tendulkar was visibly unhappy. In the last over before they went off, Tendulkar edged two balls to the slips- though the ball fell short on both occasions. Indicating his unhappiness again, he finally convinced the umpires that he really couldn't see the ball anymore. The umpires called off play, and this was followed by the silliest and funniest bit of commentary I've ever heard. I have no idea who the commentators were, so I'll just refer to them as A and B,
(players walking off)
A: That's the mastery of Tendulkar! Deliberately edging two balls to show the umpires he can't see well... and and ensuring they drop short of the slips!
B: Aww COME ON! He's not that good!
A: (sounding like an indignant school boy) HE IS, HE IS! He is that good!

It made me smile. And it's probably true as well. Because like I said before, I've understood the real meaning of boasting today... I mean Tendulkar- the man is such a show off. Iain O'Brien was bowling one of the last overs of the day. He bowled a short ball to Tendulkar. Tendulkar decided to let it go, and left the ball in his typical style - drop the bat and sway slightly out of the way. Then he decided that would be too boring. He decided he would have some fun at the bowlers expense. By the time he'd made up his mind, the ball was almost past him, so he did the cheekiest thing- swung up the bat and cut the ball high over the slips and into the third man fence for four.

SHOW OFF!

The render of the veils

2009-03-11T11:56:00.004+05:30

It's the title of a horror story by Ramsey Campbell. Among the creepiest stories I've ever read. In synopsis, it's like this:
It's a rainy, gloomy night. Two men, looking for a taxi, decide to share the first one they find. During the taxi drive, they begin to discuss perspectives, and the thought that we do not truly see things for what they are. We see things as we have been trained to see them. One of the men is a worshipper of Daoloth, the render of the veils. Daoloth is the deity who renders the veils that keep humans from seeing what truly is. This man is about to perform a ritual to Daoloth, so Daoloth may remove the veils.
The other enthusiastically agrees and they head to the first's house to perform the ritual. The next morning, police finds both the men dead. They also find a very creepy audio recording of what transpired that night.

I read this story a long time ago. But it has always been at the back of my head. What if what we see, what we feel (as in sensory perception), what we hear, what if it is all a figment of our imagination? An imagination that we have been brought up with?

It struck me how much the perspective changes the way we see things recently. Friends of my parents came home one night. My entire family was at our shop at the other end of the city. I offered to go along with the friends to the shop, since they were not from Pune and didn't know the roads. And it changed the way I see Pune.

Having travelled the length and breadth of the city on a two wheeler for most of my life (generous thank you to the folks at Kinetic Engineering and Honda Motor Scooter India, for the unforgettable experiences I've had on a Kinetic Honda, a Kinetic Nova and a Honda Activa, before my current beast), all the development was unnoticed. I'd seen it change slowly, seen it evolve. But when was the last time I'd travelled through Pune sitting in the back of an Army Gypsy vehicle? A VERY long time ago. Sitting in a Gypsy again, it suddely showed me the contrasts in the Pune of old and the new Pune. It showed me the immense development that had taken place in my city. The city I'd lived in for years. It felt an alien city suddenly.

Another example of this, is the realisation that my college is actually a very beautiful place. When you're busy with college activities, you seldom see how nice the place is. The other day, I took out my camera to take a couple of pics. The realisation didn't dawn on me until I'd started clicking. My college is beautiful. In bits anyway. And it took me the bast part of three years to realise that.

How deep does it go? How much of what we sense is real, and how much of it is what we're supposed to sense? Who can tell?

Got the goose!

2009-02-23T10:47:00.002+05:30

The title is of course, a reference to a post by falconer, here. The goose was a comet. Comet Lulin, visiting us for the first and last time.
I had been too tired to accompany Falconer and Abba when they tried to spot it a few days ago. Last night, I decided to give it a go myself. Too lazy to setup the telescope. I thought it would be easier to try and spot it through the viewfinder (which is basically a very small telescope, a sidekick of the big one). And spot it I did. A few degrees east of Saturn, in the constellation of Virgo. Looked to me like a faint blur. Not visible to the naked eye, just visible through the viewfinder.
Thanks to last night, I've come up with a new way to use the viewfinder. We tend to use it with only one eye, closing the other so we can concentrate on the view we see from the finder. Last night, I used it with both eyes open. The right eye at the finder eyepiece, looking at the magnified sky, and the left eye open to the heavens. If you have a suitable finder, this is a great trick to use. The left eye gives you a picture of the sky. The right eye can see the cross hairs of the finder. When you want to point at a particular object in the sky, just bring the object (visible in the sky, thanks to left eye) into the cross hairs of the finder (visible in the finder, thanks to left eye). And viola! You'll see it as clear as day bang in the centre of the cross hairs in the finder as well.
The human eyes. Quite amazing. Not only do the presence of two of them, as they are, give us a sense of depth, but the juxtaposition of images that takes place from both eyes lets us perform little tricks like these!

How to rob a superhero

2009-02-23T10:30:00.002+05:30

It's childishly simple. Wait for a fantastic director to come along and direct one of the great movies of our time. Hype it up before it releases. Hype it up so much that people expect it not to live up to the hype. Watch it surpass the hype. Watch an ensemble cast deliver a great performance to a thought provoking storyline.

Then the simple part. Deny it even nominations for best movie and best director.

Damn.

To be loved

2009-02-15T18:00:00.005+05:30

I don't mean romantic love. I mean respect, adulation, adoration, awe. It is the reason why I feel working in an office all day long is tiring. It is not fulfilling. Humans crave all of the emotions I just mentioned. This post has been in my head since the Brazilian Grand Prix (Formula 1) of 2008. The last race of the year. Felipe Massa - a Brazilian in a Ferrari was in with a chance to win the drivers world championship. It was a moving sight, even on TV, to see the crowd in the stands. I cannot imagine any experience in life better than to perform in front of such a large crowd that overwhelmingly supports you. That race had to be seen to be believed. The fan reaction when he crossed the finish line, the drivers champion if the order at that moment held. The deafening silence when the order changed and he lost the drivers championship by a single point. It's hard to describe.

I attended a metal concert a couple of months ago. Ensiferum, at IIT Bombay. I doubt more than 5% of the crowd knew what the band were singing or even who they were. I didn't. But they were fantastic. So much so that I (and if you know me, you'll see how this is a little surprising) landed up in the mosh pit. Took me on another thought voyage. Can you imagine what it would be like to be the band in this case? To have a huge crowd in your grasp, to see that people were having the time of their lives because of you? What would it feel like?

It's not only a showman who can feel this though. Even the lowly engineer can. If he is in the right place that is. (The author apologises for delving deep into graphics processing unit folklore) In the first half of 2008, ATI, the graphics arm of Advanced Micro Devices, came out with the Radeon 4800 series of graphic cards. This series, in way that cannot be comprehended fully, changed the computer graphics industry forever. For so many years, ATI and Nvidia tried to play better (metaphorically). In 2008, ATI stopped trying to play better. It changed the rules. The 4800 series captured the imagination of everyone who cared for this industry. A couple of months later, I came across an article on Anandtech, describing what went into creating the 4800 series. The design team took gambles, audacious gambles, and it all paid off. The comments to that article are relevant to this post. It was a public outpouring of admiration for the folks at ATI.

During a similar time last year, I also saw The Dark Knight in theatres. The first day and the first show. The movie had been hyped to levels I had seldom seen. And it lived up to the hype. In fact, it exceeded the hype. Most of this was thanks to a certain Heath Ledger. I have never seen a movie receive a standing ovation at the end of a screening. That day I did. I'm sorry that the people associated with the film do not get a chance to see this reaction (I'm sure it happened many times over across the world).

Life isn't about how much money you earn. It isn't about how much success you have. It isn't about how many promotions you get. It isn't about how many cars or houses you have. It is about being loved. The love of a small group of people close to you, and the love of a large group of people across the world. I wish that life takes me along a path that will let me achieve my goal in life. Indeed, there is only one. To be loved.

Pub Culture

2009-02-13T11:10:00.005+05:30

This post was intended to be written shortly after the SRS attacked women for visiting a pub and their declarations that 'Pub culture' was wrong etc. Sadly, with my internet connection being down, I was unable to publish it.

So to the topic at hand. Pubs. What are pubs? Pubs are establishments which are licensed to serve alcoholic beverages. The word Pub is an english (as in from England, not of the language (though it is)) word. Okay. So we have the non Indian connection right there. Other than that, between a (insert word here indicating place that serves desi) and a pub, I beg to ask, what is the difference? The only one I can come up with is that the desi (serving) establishment is more likely to be frequented by the sort of people who waste away their money on alcohol and beat their wives. So, dear SRS, if you think so much about 'Indian culture', why not target these places and the males that visit them. Surely, not taking care of your family and beating your wife is not Indian culture? Or is it allowed because it is quite likely that half your miserable mob does exactly that?

Really. What is wrong with 'Pub culture' ? I've been to a pub a couple of times. I don't drink, but a couple of friends do. The first time, I felt a little awkward. After that though, I've realised that I quite like the atmosphere of the (solitary) pub I have visited. There are no men/women indulging in obscene acts (as the SRS would have us believe). There are merely a bunch of people having fun with their friends. How is that a crime, Mr Muthalik? Surely, your idea of having fun with friends (i.e. beating up hapless women) is more wrong than ours is? There are a bunch of people singing along with the music in the pub. Is that a crime? I didn't know that it was wrong (or un-Indian) to sing songs, no matter how bad a singer you are. If it were, you've got your public enemy number 1 - Himes bhai. What else happens at a pub? People drink - or to put it more plainly, men and women drink alcoholic drinks. So? Why should that be any of your business? If people want to get drunk, that's their personal choice. If they behave in a manner that is inappropriate, that is between the police and these individuals. Where exactly do you come in to this?

Face it, Mr. Muthalik. You are Nothing. Never were anything. Never will be. Take your insignificance, accept it, and live your insignificant life alone.
GO AWAY.

I'm a mid 60s guy

2009-01-18T17:58:00.004+05:30

These are words of Enthu. Uttered on the way back from Nasrapur. For a little background, Nasrapur is a village on NH4. We have an active Astronomy club, and we had decided to go to Nasrapur for a star party. Enthu and I went to the site a couple of days earlier to perform a recce of the site, to ensure it's good for our purposes.

We left Pune at 6:40 PM, and got there at around 8:30 PM. Most of that time was wasted in the city. Once we got out on to the highway, we were doing a comfortable average of over 60kmph, touching 85 odd occasionally.

On the way back, I offered to let Enthu ride. He tells me, "I'm not a big fan of speed... I'm a mid 60s guy. You're pretty confident on the bike- when you took that banked turn at 78, 'gote kapaalat geli hoti' for lack of a better phrase." I told him that the bike inspires such confidence.

A push of the starter and a minute later, the mid 60s guy is cruising along at 75kmph and taking banked turns at 80. And touching speeds around 90kmph.

We did in excess of 70kmph on the highway that night. That's a pretty impressive figure on Indian roads. And the rider was riding this particular bike for the first time.

Once we've stopped he tells me, "This bike is fantastic! It just feels so assured and planted to the road! I've ridden many bikes, and never felt confident enough to cross 60kmph for too long a time."

I agree. The Apache RTR is one of the finest pieces of engineering to come out of an Indian company. Too bad the seat is bad, and too bad the engine vibes a bit. But you can't have it all. I'd say the brilliant engineers at Hosur can take a bow.

You don't know what this means....

2009-01-13T19:48:00.007+05:30

... until it happens to you.

@ At the other entity involved- no hard feelings, merely an observation.
Disclaimer: The image and alt text are copied exactly as is from xkcd.
(c) xkcd etc.

Dam it!

2009-01-12T20:12:00.007+05:30

Many years from now, one rule will have been added to the book of unsaid biking rules - Never trust people with the initials ADB (I'm looking at you Abba). We had planned to go to Lonavla yesterday (on bikes obviously) - Abba, the fair Encke and me (Falconer being away). And then the unholy baba pulls out on saturday evening citing "fatigue", once again leaving Encke and me to do all the biking. Like I've said before, too is two few (err...?). Thanks to Abba, we had to drop the Lonavla plan (and had to imagine Falconer with an evil laugh saying 'there can be no chocolate fudge in Lonavla without me! moohahaha!'). Despite Abba's best efforts though, we did go for a ride Sunday morning. The journey was cut short only to Khadakwasla dam, seeing as only two people were going.
We were supposed to meet at Rajaram bridge at 07:15. I got a little late and reached there at 07:30. And there was nobody there (of course - nobody I know - DOH). So out of politeness, I wait for ten minutes for the fair Encke... nobody turns up. I finally called her in ten minutes time. The transcript:

*ring ring*
*cut*
me: (thought) She must almost be here - so the dropped call.
a minute later,
*ring ring*
Me: Hello
Encke (groggy): Uh hello... I just woke up...
Me (incredulous): Whaa?
Encke (still groggy): Uh yeah... I'm sorry... I'll be there in fifteen minutes
Me (still incredulous): Okay... see you in a bit
Ten minutes later, she's at the bridge
Encke (still a little groggy, but looking very cheerful): Hi!! I'm sorry- I got up late!
Me: Er okay...
Encke: You remember those gloves I bought...
Me: Yes...
Encke: They're both for the same hand!! I have to wear them one correct and one reversed!
Me: *speechless*

After we finally got going, it took us barely one half of an hour to get to the dam. She's been reservoir side, but not the dam side, so we decide to go dam side this time around (the third time for me). We came across this really weird place where there were chucks of wall lying around a large meadow... I kid you not!

She tells me to go stand close to one of the wall remnants for a pic,
Encke: Why don't you go stand close to that piece of wall, I'll take a pic
Me (tentative): It's all slushy and mucky there... I'm not too sure
Encke: Oh stop being a wimp. Just go.
Me: Ehehehe there's water there... not a very good idea...
Encke: Gah. Here, take the camera, I'll go.
Me (ungallantly stands aside): Okay.
Encke: It is rather slushy and mucky.
Me (I told you so tone coming to prominence) : And there's water - can't tell how deep it is...
Encke: Worse still- can't say what's in it!
She thankfully drops the idea.

We then walk about a bit more and find a dry approach to that wall remnant and another. She's a climber, I'm a guy who takes pics - guess what we did. She climbed the wall remnant and I took pics...

On the second wall remnant she climbs, she tells me,
Encke: Hey! this one's easy, you can climb this one...
Me (warily): Are you sure?
Encke: Yes!!

She gets down and then guides me up the wall remnant. She then climbs back up with a tripod. We then take a couple of cringeworthy pics *cringes*.

(The author would like to point out that this cringeworthy pic was taken at the same point that Encke was standing on in the previous pic)

We then went up a little further up - to NDA... Took a few pics there. A fun ride, like the first two to Khadakwasla were! And the next time, we ARE going to Lonavla Abba, with or without you.

Rest of the pics can be found here. I would've taken the credit for these pics (Encke took most of them) but then again, Encke's a comet. Comets are hot, glowing balls of fire (oh the melodrama!). Being struck by one isn't my idea of a good time. So yes- the credit for most of these (rather nice) photos goes to Encke. Like I said, the next stop is Lonavla.

How to use a bike on a date

2008-12-27T19:41:00.008+05:30

Ahoy there! It's been a while eh? Well, back again to try and amuse you, I am.

So this article, is a collection of thoughts of things that you could do with a bike on a date. I'll be talking about how different bits of a bike can be used on a date. For the guys, take this with a heap of salt (the author's never tried any of this). For the girls, if you notice your guy following this post like a textbook on your date, you know what to do (or do you?). So here we go:

1. The headlamp [L]
It could help you get her attention before you're out on a date, but not much use on a date.

2. The horn [H]
You might need it when you go to pick her up. A nasty loud blaring horn (that sounds like a Punjab da trukkk oye!) will probably not go down very well, but if you've got a wimpy horn, you'll sound sound like a, well, wimp. Now you know.

3. Torque [T]
If you have a torquey engine, it's a nice tool that you can use. On the first few dates, use the torque to overtake the other jerk with the chick behind him. She (the one behind you :s) ought to be a little impressed. On later dates, open the throttle suddenly to have the bike leap forward. Likely to have her clutch at you as a knee-jerk reaction (Though it's pretty sad for a girl to be clutching at a jerk like you).

4. Engine roar [E]
I suppose it looks better if your engine roars more than it purrs.

5. The front brake [B]
Nothing, I repeat, nothing will bring two people closer on a date than a well disguised and hard brake (the verb brake, not the noun brake). For this, you need a strong front brake. Ought to work like a charm.

6. The size of the rear seat [S]
A small rear seat leads to obvious consequences... the less said (by this author) the better *cough* *cough*.

7. Riding gear [G]
No idea how this impresses the ladies. Jerks tend to believe that they look more macho without riding gear on. I tend to differ on that view. Your take really.

8. The grab rail [R]
If you have a nice big grab rail to hold on to, your girl will hold that. You have a bad grab rail to hold on to, the lady will hold on to you.

9. The shock absorbers [A]
Bad shocks will make the pillion clutch harder at whatever she's holding, so bad shocks + #8, the maths is simple.

Now that we have eight parameters, let's rate bikes on these points. Scores out of 70, converted to a score out of 10. Higher scores are good for the desperate guys, lower scores good for the ladies. I'll only be rating bikes that I have used.

The results:

So there you have it.
Ladies, you know you can trust a guy on a Unicorn. Guys, Pulsar 200 for the win!

Disclaimers:
1. The author has never tried any of this. (What did you think?)
2. Guys, if the girl has (unfortunately) read this post, best of luck on that date.

The author wishes to acknowledge that the probability of him going out tended to zero before this post was published. After publishing, the probability now stands at zero. If you were amused for one moment by this article, please observe a microsecond's silence for this tragedy.

Dhak Dhak NO!

2008-11-22T21:25:00.004+05:30

Dear Hero Honda,
I'm writing this letter because as a part of the market section that you're trying to target, I'd like to make a suggestion.
FIRE EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN YOUR MARKETING TEAM.
No? Again? Okay.
FIRE EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN YOUR MARKETING TEAM.

What was your HR team thinking when they employed the marketing team?

Please answer a few questions for my satisfaction:
1. Why did you name an otherwise okay bike 'HUNK'
2. What makes you think men want to ride a hunk?
3. Does a rider on a hunk really turn into a bison at will?
4. Does Hrithik Roshan's Karizma really have a nitrous oxide system?
5. What made you think a red bike with checks on it looks cool?
6. Did you actually think before you agreed to make a PINK Passion?
7. Did you actually even think before naming a bike Passion? Or pleasure?
8. Does anyone of the Next Generation really ride a Splendor NXG?
9. Does anyone ride a Splendor NXG?
10. Does the 'new' CBZ extreme have anything different from the old one other than red rear wheel rims?
11. How does the new CBZ extreme spin about two axes in one jump?

Enough? Really, you people ought to be banned for the mental trauma your rubbish adverts cause to billions of innocent people. On another note, the people at TVS who dreamed of 'jab angoothe se kaam chale to laath kyon maarna?' for the self started TVS Star are snickering at you about now. You should be ashamed.

For the lucky uninitiated, here you go:
http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=i0ZhYYSrf_8

A town of many Tales

2008-09-14T20:54:00.010+05:30

It's a friday night - and I receive a call from Abba (known in certain circles as the holy baba). He tells me that we should go for a biking trip the next morning. I'm a biking enthusiast myself, so it wasn't long before I said yes - with one caveat - no pillion riders. When you want to just have a flat out blast on a bike, I just feel that the pillion gets in the way. After a little argument, he agreed.
Too bikers is two few (or is it two bikers is too few?), so we needed more people. The only other person with a bike is the fair Encke. We gave her a call, and a little while later she was on board.

Later that night, frantic plans were made. 'We should go to the Talegaon MIDC area,' I said. It is a beautiful place. Then on the spur of the moment, we decided that it would, in fact, be Lonavla that we went to. All fixed up, we were to meet the next day at 7:30.

Trust Abba to be late. To add more chaos to the mix, Encke turned up at 7:10 and called the two of us. I got to the rendezvous point around 7:30, and Abba at 7:50. We're finally set! Off we went then, riding out. We'd go through Khadki, then Pimpri and Chinchwad before we hit the open highway. About 50-60 km from there would get us to Lonavla. Of course, there are traps in the best laid plans. Abba's Enfield developed a front tyre puncture in Khadki, and to worsen matters, the mechanic broke an axle clamp while fitting back the fixed tyre. Game over for Abba. Crucially, it had cost us more than an hour.

Abba vehemently insisted that we go on. I wasn't too sure, and left it to Encke to decide. She said, 'We've come this far, we might as well finish the trip.' We decided to drop the idea of Lonavla and go instead, to our original destination, Talegaon - the town of many tales (geddit?). Leaving Khadki at 9:45 (we had expected to be eating chocolate fudge in Lonavla by this time) we had a stonker of ride, covering 30 odd km in nearly as many minutes.

Once out of the twin townships of Pimpri and Chinchwad, the highway is open, empty and fantastic. For a stretch of about 5-6km, we were doing speeds in excess of 100kmph. Once in the MIDC area, the photographers in Encke and me took over. A few beautiful flowers were snapped, the panaroma featured in some of our photos too. There were a few pics of Encke and a few of me, a few of us both. Take a look at the pics we took, or head over here to see all of 'em in a better res.

The journey back home was good as well. I even took a turn at what could be called an outrageous lean (on a public road of course. On a racetrack, that very lean would be outrageous, for different reasons!) of 25-30 degrees to the road! Encke was a little more circumspect at that lean. We hit over 100kmph again in a couple of spots and made it back to Pune in about an hour's time. Tremendous fun! Will certainly do again!

The link to the pics again - if you missed it

Helmets

2008-08-26T22:42:00.002+05:30

I've been wondering why people in our country so dislike wearing helmets while riding two wheeled vehicles. So I decided I should list the benefits of not wearing helmets - as compared to the benefit of wearing one. Here we go -

The benefits of not wearing a helmet:
1. You can spit on the road (That is of course, much more important than safety)
2. You can show off your 'skills' and try to impress people (Really! What's the use of being safe? Much better to be cool!)
3. You won't lose hair (Imaginary studies conducted by idiots conclusively prove that 98.671045% of all people who regularly use helmets lose all their hair after an average 6.43 minutes of helmet wear. Why take a risk with your hair? The hair is more important than the head!)
4. You can feel the wind rush through your hair. (Even if you run the risk of tasting asphalt once in a while, it's bloody well worth it!)
5. You won't run the risk of getting neck aches (Other imaginary studies state the 143% of helmet users suffer from chronic neck pain that makes them look like dead people from Zee Horror Show. Better to live short without neck ache, than live long with the hypothetical pain!)
6. You can give people horrid looks, and make your insults and abuses very clear (You can't really do that effectively from the confines of a helmet. Without a helmet, you can express yourself better.)
7. You don't have to tire yourself carrying the helmet around (More imaginary studies show that the stress felt by your hand carrying the helmet is about 4,692,120 times more than the stress your head will feel if it hits the ground in a biking accident.)
8. You save money! (So what if you might have to spend much more on medical treatments?)
9. You don't feel hot under the helmet (This one is the absolute truth. Obviously, direct exposure to sunlight keeps your head cooler than being shielded by an inch and a half of insulating material.)
10. You can hear things on the road better (And that matters. If you don't notice people, how will you go about yelling at them and making faces?)

The benefits of wearing a helmet:
There's just one, primary benefit - you remain a lot safer with the helmet on, than without it. (Safety? THAT'S FOR LOSERS! Real men/women aren't gutless worms who need helmets protecting them!)

So as you can see, the benefits of not wearing a helmet outnumber the advantages of wearing one 10:1. No wonder. I always knew that most of my countrymen had done the maths had opted for the more 'sensible' choice!

Why I don't want to drive

2008-08-19T21:18:00.004+05:30

Recently, almost everyone has been nagging me to learn how to drive. People keep telling me things like 'It's good to know how to drive...' (Yes it is), 'It'll be a lot of fun!' (Maybe so), 'It's much safer' (It is)... I've lost count. But I'm not going to learn how to drive. Not just yet. Primarily because I'm having too much fun on my bike.

Driving cars maybe fun, but it can never be as thrilling as a bike can be. And the reason is one of those I mentioned above. It's not as safe. Riding a bike is a lot riskier than driving a car is. Even if you don't count the state of our roads and the behaviour of our motorists, I still think it takes a phenomenal amount of skill and guts to have the same amount of fun on a bike that you can have in a 'safe' car. Cars have a ton of safety features in them - ABS, Airbags, Seat Belts etc. On a bike, all you have for protection are a helmet (don't consider yourself worthy of a bike if you do not use a helmet) and less often gloves, elbow/knee guards and suchlike. In spite of all the protection you wear, you're still going to take a beating if you have a fall. In a car, there's little risk of hurting yourself if you muck something up.

On a bike, therefore, you have to be completely in control of the vehicle, and yet let the vehicle control you. Know the vehicle's limits, but it must know yours too. When you try something spectacular on a bike, you put your faith completely into the bike and your skill - there's no steel cage, no seatbelt to protect you. Which is why when you succeed in doing something exhilarating on a bike, the high that you get can be rivalled by little else. It is the union of man and machine that gives you such a rush- each dependent on the other for safety. I've done it a couple of times- pushed the bike a little further than I thought it could've gone. Both times, on razor thin margins, the bike held on. Once, I've returned the favour, using skill to overcome the bike's slip. It's a symbiotic system - man and machine.

Another thing that irks me about cars is that you have to get pretty high up to get a car that is fun. A road ripping bike can be yours for a fraction of that money. As far as I know, the swift is the only 'fun' car a reasonable sum of money can buy. The next stop comes at nearly double the cost - the Mitsubishi Lancer. That, is my dream car... Maybe then I'll want to drive... Even if I'm 40 by the time I can afford one!
Till that day comes, I might learn how to drive, but I'm going to be on my bike more than I'll ever be in a car.

Anti-Friendship day

2008-08-17T19:16:00.003+05:30

I've been inactive. If only I had brought my self to type out things I've wanted to... but suddenly, I feel this surge. I want to write. From now on, I want to write frequently. Write about something significant rather than meaningless, poorly written posts like this one. From now on, I will try to rattle off readable blog entries at a lively pace.

So off again. My tirade today, is against friendship day. It's wrong for a few million reasons, (there is of course the small probability that I have grievously underestimated that number) I'm going to try and talk about a few of them.

Let's begin then. I'm sick of the sheer number of days in a year dedicated to this person and that... this concept and that... COME OFF IT ALREADY! How hard is it to see that this is just a crass marketing ploy on the part of the greeting card companies? With the spread of inexpensive cellular technology, the mobile companies too have it all to gain. The entire concept of having these days is to honour something or someone that you normally take for granted, or say/do things you normally wouldn't. So lets rattle off with the ones that come to my mind now...
Mothers day - Mothers are underrated. I think it's good that there is at least one day in the year when the things she does for you and me are respected.
Fathers Day - Fathers are not underrated. I love my father too, but it is simply silly to celebrate a fathers day in a society such as ours, where the male is so predominant.
Doctors Day - WHAT? WHY? I think you feel enough gratitude for the good ones, and hate the inept ones enough all through the year.
I could go on forever... but the list will never end. We need to stop. Stop playing into the hands of these pathetic marketing ploys. I mean, for our example, friendship day... What makes any of you think that it matters one teensy-weensy little bit? The good friends will be standing by your side, the fickle ones will leave you, friendship day celebration/cards/bands or not.

I consider the whole ordeal entirely farcical... I will not wish anyone a happy friendship day in my life, but you are more than welcome to join my anti-friendship day crusade.

Until next time, !X!

How much longer?

2008-07-03T22:41:00.004+05:30

A letter to ESPN Star Sports

How much longer will you deprive us of Marat Safin's matches? What will you telecast instead of the Wimbledon Semi-Final? The whole idea of two channels is that no one ought to miss their favourite sporting action. And yet, you insisted on not telecasting Safin's matches, instead telecasting anything you could lay your hands on. So again. WHAT WILL YOU TELECAST INSTEAD OF SAFIN ON THE WIMBLEDON CENTRE COURT?

-Disgruntled Safin Fan

Marat Safin

2008-06-28T10:47:00.008+05:30

I don't consider myself a tennis fan. I know most of the rules, know the current world #1s. But that's about it. On a fine January morning in 2005, I happened to read an article celebrating the twenty-fifth birthday of (to me) little known Russian tennis player. That player was of course, Marat Safin (And if you didn't see that coming after the post title, YOU'RE A DOLT). I remember being extremely fascinated by this man. I loved the fact that he wore his heart on his sleeve, wasn't afraid to say what he thought. His temper amused me too - he'd break racquets and berate himself in multiple languages... His only stumbling block was his form, which varied as erratically as weather forecasts vary from reality. I decided that I had to see this man play. It was convenient that his birthday, and consequently the article, were around the time of the 2005 Australian open. I saw all of his matches during that Australian open, and was immediately a fan. He defeated Roger Federer in an epic semi-final and the went on to beat the fan favourite Australian Lleyton Hewitt in another fabulous match. I'd finally found a tennis player to support.

It all went downhill from there. Plagued by injury and a lack of self belief, Safin hardly ever made it past the initial rounds of most tournaments after that. I gave up watching tennis too. Roger Federer was too boring and I didn't really like Nadal. Fast forward to a couple of days back, and I see a news article that said that Safin was through to the third round of Wimbledon having beaten Novak Djokovic. That got me excited, I made every attempt to get the time for his third round match. A prolonged search got me a time of 6:30 PM IST, yesterday. But then, one must not forget that Wimbledon is in Great Britain. Thanks to the weather, the match only started around 11 PM IST. To cut a long story short, he won. What excites me is that last night (I stayed up to 2 AM, watching him win) he was the vintage Safin. There was a little bit of everything that makes Marat Safin what he is. There was a racquet thrown, frequent yelling, multiple expressions of disbelief at how he'd been cheated by providence over one shot or the other. Coming up to the what had to be the last game (he only had to hold serve), him leading 7-6, 3-6, 7-6, 5-4, the crowd was going crazy. There was a spectacular Mexican wave that went around Court 1 thrice before he could even start his serve. And then, just to prove that this was of course, the ever erratic Marat Safin, he went on to trail 15-40. Everybody (me included) must have groaned inwardly at this juncture. Could he blow it all? Having done all the hard work, would he stumble now? And he didn't. The crowd went beserk as he took victory from an increasingly panic stricken Andreas Seppi.

Safin is quite the fan favourite. The spectators gathered at court 1 braved chilling weather, seated till after 9 PM local time, to see another Safin epic, and they were rewarded. Safin was gracious enough to sign a multitude of autographs after the gruelling three hour match, and left the court to loud cheers from the spectators. What is it about this Russian that makes him such a favourite with the fans? To be really honest, I think Safin's rollercoaster career appeals to this feeling we all have inside us. The tragedy of unfulfilled genius. Safin embodies that unfulfilled genius. That's why, his win is our win, his loss is our loss, his heartbreak is ours and his jubilation is ours too.

One of the commentators said something about destiny. If ever Safin was supposed to win Wimbledon, it had to be now. Can he win? Of course, when he's mentally fit, it doesn't matter who the opponent is. It just doesn't. He can steamroll the best into submission. Will he? That's another matter altogether, for Marat Safin always plays with a handicap. Only one man is trying to defeat his opponent. Safin. However, two men are trying to defeat Safin. His opponent and - Safin himself. I'm sure there are millions of fans worldwide who'd like to see him overcome himself in the coming days. If he can do that, I truly, from the bottom of my heart feel sorry for his opponents.

Like another commentator said, "It's ridiculous really, that a man of such prodigious talent last won a grand slam at the Australian open three years ago."

The Chronicles of Abba: The Cult of Baba

2008-06-15T16:48:00.003+05:30

The way Abba's going, he'll soon be the most famous person on the planet (for *ahem* the wrong reasons!). The third chronicle of Abba takes us to a pre-Seamen (* cough cough*) Abba. There we all were - just having returned from the star party. Abba had been awake the whole night, clicking away to glory... Understandably, the lack of sleep did not agree with his constitution. The responses from his began to get more and more vague, until this happened:

Enthu: (Mocking query) Can we expect any good photographs from you at all?
Abba: Arre just go to Katraj.
Enthu: What?
Decibel: Hahaha... What's wrong Abba? Horrid pics?
Abba: Why don't you too go to Katraj and have milk?
Enthu: Look now... he's lost it so bad he's going to send you to Katraj no matter what you say...
Me: Hey Abba - You suck!
Abba: Just go to Katraj, dude.
Enthu: This is going to become a legend in our college... Part of college lore... Telling someone to go to Katraj will be like the biggest threat you could give someone... Imagine-
Senior: Junior1, you're going to go to Katraj today...
Junior1: NOOOOO!!!
Junior2: (to Junior3) My God Junior1 has had it today...
Junior3: Agreed... He's in for a drubbing today... Hope we see him tomorrow...
Me: Hahaha!
Abba: Arre shut up dude! Don't you want to drink milk in Katraj?
Enthu: I've understood I think... I think Abba is the Doodh Baba. He's a baba who's sole devotion is to milk... So it follows that 'Go to Katraj' is his way of saying 'Go to Hell'.
Me: Hahahaha what the random!
Enthu: Please forgive me Baba, I have grievously wronged you by making fun of you... Just don't send me to Katraj!
Abba: What? Uhh?
Enthu: No baba, forgive me, I have made a mistake...
Abba (transformation to Baba now complete) : Hmm... I shall consider...

More followed, until the Doodh Baba became a part of Astronomy Club lore...

Next post: Hymns to Baba; Facts about Baba that you did not know.

It pays to do the right thing

2008-06-07T19:24:00.003+05:30

Long time, no see eh? What? You were happy I wasn't blogging much? No I didn't quite hear that. Stop mumbling and go on to read the next post.

This happened a few days back...
My cousin and I were returning home one night. It wasn't what you'd call a long ride... about 10km or so. I hadn't been sure of the amount of fuel in my bike, so while I was checking that, he left. He had a headstart of 5 minutes or so. Once I was convinced that there was sufficient fuel, I was off. I'm the younger one here, and the one with the smaller (engine displacement) bike. Thought it would be fun to catch up with him, and ten km would be a long enough distance to make up the lost five minutes...

Six odd kilometres of fast riding (not rash, mind you, fast and rash are different), and I'd finally caught up with him at a traffic signal. A bus separated him from me... As the signal went green, he got off to a nice headstart again, and I got bottled up behind the bus. By the time I'd overtaken the bus, I'd lost sight of him again. Now, this is the part where you need to refer to the map. I caught up with him again, at another traffic light (The orange dot on the map). Now, to get home (blue dot), I could either take a right turn, and ride up a one way, or I could follow traffic rules and go straight. The straight was obviously longer. I hoped against hope that he would pick the straight road, giving me a crucial kilometre or so to overtake him. But he didn't. He decided that it was late enough for him to take the right and go against the one way. So he ended up taking the red path, the shortest way home. I thought about following him. Then I didn't do it. A younger cousin was sitting pillion, didn't want to be setting bad examples... Took the straight road.

Now, the straight road leads to a junction at which some construction work is in progress (It's been on for a while, no one has any idea what they're up to) . Due to this, the way home is the yellow path. Very long as you can see, not a chance in hell of making it home first. Resigned to my fate, I proceeded. And then, the gift of the gods! That very day, a straighter road had been opened up for traffic (the brown part). Suddenly, I had another path, the green one. It wasn't as short as the red, but it would defintely cut a couple of hundred metres and eliminate the time consuming U-turn. Yelling and whooping (I'm afraid I must've made quite a scene of myself that night), I made my way home. My heart was pounding in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my system... would he have made it home? Would the ride up the one way have delayed him long enough? Nervously took to the right turn, and then the left... to see...

No bikes parked in front of my house! I'd beaten him! In spite of the five minute handicap, in spite of the fact that I took the longer way home, I'd beaten him home! It was a good two minutes before he arrived.

It's a valuable lesson... Don't break traffic rules. It's dangerous, not only to you, but to countless others on the roads around you. There is no time limit for traffic rules. They're always in effect. I'm happy that nothing went wrong that day, but how easy would it have been for a car to be speeding down the one way, and to have hit my cousin?

(At this point, I'd like to make it clear that my cousin is no slowpoke on the roads, and that the displacement difference was a good 40cc (or 25% more) , which is large enough on Indian roads)

Remember, it's good to follow the rules. The gods will bless you!

Flickering thoughts

2008-05-18T12:35:00.003+05:30

I use a gmail account. I blog on a google owned site. I regularly use google docs. Google search is of course a given. But enough is enough now. At this rate, google is going to take over the world. In my scathing (not really, but cool word, so there!) counter attack to google, I've signed up to Flickr.

You've probably guessed by now that the first part of most of my posts is generally meaningless. So yes, the real reason why I chose flickr over picasa. Simple. Flickr is intuitive, better managed and has a superior layout. And the most important thing. I can middle click images on flickr. I hate picasa more than anything else because it won't let me middle click and open many images in different tabs. I mean, WHATS YOUR PROBLEM, GOOGLE? IS IT WRONG TO OPEN A COUPLE OF IMAGES SIMULTANEOUSLY FROM THE SAME ALBUM IN DIFFERENT TABS? And those of you who tell me to open two instances of picasa and do what I like, zur Hölle gehen.

So yes, I like flickr because I can middle click. Go figure.

Oh yes, the link. Here it is.

Foot in Mouth Disease

2008-05-13T07:36:00.005+05:30

Foot in mouth disease is a dreadful thing. Symptoms include talking before you think, blabbering nonsense, unintentionally revealing things that must not be revealed, etc. Now take the example of Abba (yes, of KrackJack fame). On the way back from GMRT, we were having lunch at a highway dhaba. The whole bunch of us had been divided across two tables. Abba and a couple of other guys sat at one table with a bunch of girls, while our table had mostly guys, with a sssssolitary girl. Abba's table was finished with lunch much earlier than ours, but the guys at that table were still hungry. So they hopped over to our table.

Now Abba is a jolly nice chap, who like most ten year olds, imagines himself to be a noble king one day, a resolute knight the other, a brave pirate hunter the next and so on (there is the small problem - the fact that Abba is all of nineteen, not ten, but since he's a nice chap we'll overlook that). On that day, (probably influenced by the number of girls surrounding him) he decided that he would be the Pirate Hunter. Like I said, Abba hopped over to our table halfway through lunch. He must've thought that a proclamation of the state of affairs would go rather nicely with the whole Pirate Hunter thing. But a simple 'I'm coming over there to join you guys' just would not do, would it? Of course not! So he said:
Abba : My seamen have deserted me!
Enthu (eating, bursts out laughing) : WHAT? HAHAHHAHAHAHA
Me (eating) : What? What seamen are you talking about? (to enthu) What on earth is he talking about?
Enthu : HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Me : * Puzzled *
Abba : * Puzzled *
Enthu : HAHAHAHAHAHAHA... Pune Mirror Page twenty-five... HAHAHA
Me : What in the blue hel... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Abba : * Still puzzled *
Me : Pune mirror page twenty-five HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Abba : Arre what's going on here?
Enthu : We are verry sorry, but we cannot help yo...HAHAHAHA
VRD (Realisation dawns upon him) : Arre sheesh... hahahaha
Me : hahahahahaha
Abba : * Still extremely puzzled *
VRD : Arre its just a difference in the stress on pronunciation... like say - please and plizz.
Abba (Now, finally out of the storm) : Oh god! NO!

We continued laughing for a while after that, all of which cannot be captured on this blog.

Will Durant once said, 'One of the lessons of history is that nothing is often a good thing to do and always a clever thing to say.' To put it in simpler words (for the benefit of Abba), 'A closed mouth gathers no foot.' Pay attention Abba, pay attention!

Credits
I cannot leave the credits out. This post here ONLY by public demand. The public in question is anu, from here (Yes, only her (and her only, even though that's wrong english)). Form your own opinions. The greySith has said (and laughed) enough.

Salt In My Wounds

2008-05-06T16:17:00.002+05:30

You've probably heard the old proverb about how 'rubbing salt into one's (no offence to enthu) wounds' is a bad idea. Well. My doctor did just this. He rubbed Copper Sulphate into an open wound in my thumb. He's not a maniac or anything (despite the fact that he rides a red bike with the registration number painted in a manner akin to dripping blood ). I've had this weird muscle growth around my thumb, and he used the blue vitriol to kill the growth. Now, having rubbed CuSO4 rubbed into my wounds, I am officially the coolest person on the planet. MUHAHA!

Off to GMRT

2008-05-06T15:57:00.004+05:30

GMRT. That's Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope for those of you who don't know. It's the world's largest metrewave radio telescope. We went there last friday to have a look. I'd initially thought that the radio dishes were fairly small. I was horribly mistaken of course, and the realisation dawned upon me when I saw this.

'What it do?', you might ask, if you actually like the song by Li'l Flip and Mannie Fresh. The sane ones, though, tend to wonder what it does, and how. So I'll tell you. There are thirty dish antennae like the one you've just seen, set up in a Y shaped array. This behaves like a very large receptor for radio waves. These radio waves are broken down and processed. What you get is a picture of the universe (or you, if you somehow manage to hang in front of the array for long enough), in the radio band. Radio waves travel through dust clouds, so you can actually see behind stellar obstructions. Additionally, radio telescopes are active twenty-four hours a day, as compared to the total darkness required by optical telescopes. Fascinating stuff, such as pulsars, has been discovered by use of radio astronomy.

We visited the control room, from which the entire array is, err, controlled. There was this massive server there, that we have grand plans for. We plan to use it as a large bandwidth gaming server. No really. Why do you laugh?

As usual, there was also the major distraction. Photography. Very conveniently, the site
had approximately infinite scenes that make for brilliant photography, but time only allowed for a few snaps. Here are a couple.

Star Party

2008-05-06T06:45:00.004+05:30

You can accuse me of not updating the blog regularly, but no court is really going to hold that accusation up, so HA! Anyway, we'd gone to a village called Pusane for a star party (Go here, if you want to know what a star party is). We set up our telescopes (shop?) on the outskirts of the village to eliminate the modest street lighting.

Oh wonder of wonders! What a sky we saw that night. I, a veteran (not really, but it sounds cool) of three star parties, well past the jaw drop factor that accompanies a fabulous sky, still ended up looking up to the heavens with a sagging jaw. Apologies to you, since it seems the camera shook just a little, but have a look anyway:

Then of course, there was the tea. We were the organisers (again, not really, but it sounds cool to use big important sounding words), so we had to ensure that everybody else got tea. Someone conveniently forgot to bring fuel for the stove, and we were left to make do with this:

Ah well, you can't have it all. And as Darth Sidious (once, famously) said, 'Do what must be done. Do not hesitate, show no mercy'. Forty-five minutes, a few burnt maths assignments, lots of burnt hay (we burned hay when the sun didn't shine), some unburnt wood later, we actually had palatable tea. The whole process was rather complicated, but head over here, if you still want the gory details.

On our way back, I encountered what has to be one of the best sunrises I've seen in a long long time. Does this substantiate my claim?

It was fun, and you can contact me (only through the force, lower forms of communication not entertained) if you want to join us the next time we go.

Contradictions

2008-04-28T20:45:00.005+05:30

It seems to me, that having a blog is taken as an allowance to talk utter rubbish, which seems to be brilliantly funny (or smart, insightful, etc.) at first. However, if you'll just look at it a little harder, and think a little harder, you'll see it for the stupid thing it really is. Now, as you know from here, these thoughts that I have, critical of what other people seem to do, in general either begin with myself, or end with moi (pronounced mwaah by the way, it's French for 'me').

So to get on with the so called rubbish that I've (just) spoken about, let (me read a letter I recently received... It says... (If you haven't played Half-Life 2, don't even bother with this)) me quote myself, which I believe, GB Shaw thought was a pretty cool thing to do (not quote me dopehead, quote himself).

From 'Language'
"Language is a gift. A gift that has led mankind to where we are now. We must not, must not, let this gift go in vain by terribly mutilating it.
< /Rant >

*Sigh*. Like that will make any difference."

If you read that post, you'll see me waxing eloquent about how wonderful English is, how nasty we are being by decimating it etc. And I ended it with that nugget of irony right there. I've used an HTML close tag to signify an end to my ranting.
And isn't the use of HTML in English to express thoughts a corruption of the language too?

Credits:
The aforementioned KhaGaM, for pointing this out to me.
Anu, from here, for inadvertently reminding me that I was supposed to blog about this.

Peer Back-Pressure

2008-04-21T16:41:00.003+05:30

Peer Back-Pressure. Queer little term isn't it? I've been in a bit of a contemplative mood lately. And that's a term I've come up with. Yes, I will eventually (The author wishes to explain that 'eventually' happens to be a few lines down the post, but rather likes the indefineteness (is that a word?) of 'eventually) explain what that means, but for now, I'll lay a little bit of the foundation.

We all know what peer pressure is (And the author's unequivocal opinion is that you're a dolt if you don't). It's the implicit (or explicit) pressure exerted by a peer group on individuals, almost forcing them to change their views, likes, dislikes etc. to a stance in line with that of the peer group. Most of the time, the individual succumbs (knowingly or otherwise) to the pressure and changes. That's simple isn't it? Now, onward to the back-pressure bit.

Now, (Yes, the author understands that you're getting quite annoyed, but he's enjoying this. Be a little patient) back pressure is this term I came across while reading a bit of hydraulics. And being in the contemplative mood, it just sort of fit in. So yes, the point of this post. What I mean by back-pressure is the pressure the individual exerts upon himself to change, when his views on anything, agree with the views of an unpopular bunch of people. This sort of thing is what I've noticed around me recently. What I fail to understand is, why must the individual change if his views agree with those of an unpopular group? Surely, views and nature are not necessary or sufficient conditions for each other. Liking a particular band/book that is liked by the aforementioned groups does not make you a member of that group, and similarly, the other way around. In my opinion, the individual should stay as he/she is, and not be influenced by this peer back-pressure.

Whew! Did you get all of that? When I wrote this, it was with a few people I knew in mind. But all the thinking has led me to quite a conclusion! I've discovered, over the past day or so, that I've been as guilty of succumbing to peer back-pressure as the people I had in mind. Aren't we all?

The IPL...

2008-04-19T16:16:00.004+05:30

I've not been blogging for a while now... You might have thought, 'Ha! this guy is out of ideas already!'. But I've just conned you! (Not really, I did run out of ideas, but that's just not for YOU to know).

So now that that's been settled, let me get (re) started with the blog. I saw the first IPL match yesterday. The Kolkata Knight Riders completely decimated the Bangalore Royal Challengers (who, I could not resist this, did not put up much of a challenge!). It was good entertainment, the crowds loved it and so did the commentators. I can't say I didn't enjoy it, but it worries me. This is far too short a version of the game to bring out it's glorious possibilities. It just got me thinking... No matter what the players out there do, there some events that will never happen in T20. In no particular order, here we go:

1. Sachin checks into heartbreak hotel.
What Indian fan can forget the heartbreak of losing to Pakistan in Chennai in 1998? Chasing 271 to win in the fourth innings of the first test, only two Indian batsmen got to double figures. One of them was Sachin Tendulkar. Battling severe back spasms, he almost led the inept Indian team to a what would have been a fabulous win. Too bad there was nobody else to score those remaining 13 runs.

2. Yuvraj and Kaif lead us home
Netwest series final, 2002. In a T20 game, after the start India had had, there wouldn't have been a chance in hell of winning. It takes a longer version to separate the men from the boys.

3. South Africa bt Australia by one wicket in 2006
It was what has been called one of the greatest games of all time. The sheer nerves required to chase that target... WOW! Nothing of this sort will ever occur in T20 for the simple reason that T20 is too short. It's possible to maintain that sort of momentum for twenty overs... but fifty? I'd have said not a chance, if I hadn't seen this innings that is.

There is of course a lot more you could add to this list. But then again, I can only talk of what I've seen. I'd be truly sorry if T20 kills tests or ODIs...

Trek to Visapur

2008-03-23T17:02:00.004+05:30

I'd gone to Visapur last Sunday with a bunch of friends. It was a nice trek... The landscape is quite nice. We took a hell of a while to get there, but that was expected. You cannot expect to be quick when you're stopping every 15 min for clicking photographs.

The trek was entirely worth the time and energy spent. Not for the experience of trekking or anything though... It was worth it because I had the chance to listen to a hilarious conversation between one of our group and his friend. And I'll narrate it!

The rest of the group had gone off to see a temple, after we'd climbed the fort. That left three of us at the place where we'd had lunch. The three were (... with Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond!) Me and a couple of guys I'll call Abba and Enthu. Abba was half asleep when his friend called. After the customary exchanges of greetings, this is what transpired...

Enthu: I need a place to lie down... My leg hurts...
Abba: Here, you can lie down next to me.
She: Who're you talking to?
Abba: Ah that's just my girlfriend. Asked her to lie down next to me... Hello?
She: ... (static) ...
Enthu & Me: HAHAHAHAHAHA. Due you have no idea how to talk to a girl.
Abba: Arre but she's not even my girlfriend or anything for her to just cut the call like that!
Enthu: Dude are you mad? Why would you say something like that to any female?
Me: Really. You're mad!
Abba: Arre damn. What do I do now?
Enthu and Me: (still laughing) Call her and patch up.
Enthu: By the way, the first response you're going to get is 'WHAT?'.
Me: Hahahaha
Abba (calls): Er...
She: WHAT?
Abba: Er that was just my friends playing a prank... There''s no girl here...
She: Hmm... Have you reached the top of the fort?
Abba: Yes... It was fun.
She: Have you had your lunch?
Abba: Yes...
(Enthu and I are still snickering at the poor chap)
She: Are you tired or anything?
Abba: Nah I'm alright. How's your program going.
She: It's not really working... There's some debugging to be done. When will you be back?
Abba: Er I'll be home by around 4...
Enthu: Arre you might as well forget about getting home before 6:30
Abba: SHHH! er...
She: You're not going to be here by 4 eh?
Abba: Er... we might get a little late...
Me: (to Enthu, both of us still laughing) Look at him... She's so concerned about him... He hasn't even asked her if she's had lunch or anything...
Enthu: Really re... What a pathetic fellow.
(The conversation went on a little, in this manner. Then, there was this uncomfortable pause)
Abba: ...
She: ...
Abba: (Now desperate to get conversation going again) Tell me one thing... Have you ever had Krackjack with jam?
(At this point Enthu and I started doubling over with laughter)
She: Krac.. What? What is wrong with you?
Abba: Er nothi-
She: Are you alright?
Abba: Er..
(We were still howling with laughter)
She: ... (static) ...
Abba: (To us) Look what you did! She cut the call again!
Me: HAHAHAHA that wasn't us... you did that yourself... KRACKJACK AND JAM HAHAHAHA
Enthu: Is that really something to ask her?
Abba: Arre I was just... damn... just wanted to talk to her about lunch...
Enthu: So you asked her if she'd had krackjack and jam? HAHAHAHAHA
.
.
.

And so it went on for quite a while... He even called her again, and we had more cruel laughs at his expense!
The whole trip was justified, just by these 15 minutes!

A Small Trip

2008-03-17T11:58:00.006+05:30

I've been wanting to go biking someplace for a while. Last Sunday (i.e. not yesterday) that's just what I did. Took a couple of friends and another bike, and off we went to the Khadakwasla dam near Pune. I was disappointed by the length of the journey. It was rather shorter than we'd planned for...

Nevertheless, it was fun. Three of us. Two bikes. And the (mostly) open road. The area around Khadakwasla is quite a place... It's alternatively full of lush green vegetation and dry deciduous trees. Sets up the landscape quite nicely.

Those are of course our bikes. I rode both of 'em for reasonable while (not at the same time of course!). The Unicorn is a silent performer. The gears almost never run out, the engine is noiseless, the ride is smooth. The Apache on the other hand is agressive, racy and just dying to surge forward. We nearly went around the entire length of the dam reservoir.

I've got a couple of other pics as well:

Khadakwasla, in hindsight, is a nice place to go if you just want to spend the morning for a short ride. For a longer ride though, I'd strongly suggest a longer distance, say Panshet Dam or Pavna Dam (The author wishes to let you know that there are other places you can go to, around Pune, but just don't ask the author. He doesn't know... not just yet anyway).

It was my first taste of biking, my first baby steps into a wonderful new world. I rather like it!

Poetry in Motion

2008-03-09T19:11:00.004+05:30

Bajaj is really pushing stunt biking in India. At least that's what I think. So what kind are you? Do you believe that bikes are a thing of beauty and can be graceful when desired? Or do you believe that they're just machines. Lifeless and soulless entities capable of only brutishness?

If you're part of the latter, I strongly suggest you look at this. You will be converted.

I really love the part where they catch hold of each other's hands. That is poetry in motion, if there ever was such a thing.

And you might want to check out the Pulsar 200 advertisement, which is in my opinion another piece of brilliance.
Pulsar 200 Advert

Abstraction

2008-03-04T20:18:00.002+05:30

I have this feeling very often. When everything I see becomes fodder for abstract thoughts. All sense of reality is shred away from the smallest things... becoming more and more unreal as I think about it. Words. They're a favourite theme for abstraction. The word in question swiftly loses all sense as I drown in my sea of abstruse ideas. It goes on until I have no clue what the word means, or how I spell it. Then, my mind blanks out and reboots.

It gets worse with things I see around me... The IC engine dissolves into a piston reciprocating in thin air. And then details are added in, without there yet being a cylinder. And then my mind overloads and reboots. The maths equation gets split into a thousand small pieces. Each piece, my mind tries in vain to define. And fails spectacularly after heroic attempts to make sense of half of them. And again, the reboot.

I try to read a book, and the thermodynamic problem I decided to give up on more than a year ago, waltzes into my head. And it will not leave me. Till I've exhausted all my mental faculties. And all that remains is the reboot.

Sometimes I think it's too much for my tiny mind. I do not possess the mental powers to sustain long period of abstraction. But then again, if the powers that be were listening, I wouldn't even have the small periods of abstraction.

It doesn't really matter thoug... *Reboot*

Language

2008-03-02T20:33:00.000+05:30

The English language is beautiful. To be more precise, the Queen's English is a beautiful language. It's really sad to see these days, the way this language is being murdered. It started with the Americans, who insist on making perfectly good English spellings agricultural and crude. A case in point is the word manoeuvre. As I type this, my American coded Firefox browser displays this as a spelling mistake. Of course, the Americans would want to spell it as maneuver. That, is a terrible spelling. It just takes the whole finesse out of the word. And so, a supremely crafted spelling becomes crude. This is a worrisome trend. The larger problem is that many people who use spell checks in British English speaking countries, end up with the 'corrected' American spellings.

And then we have SMS. In India, the youth takes pride in decimating the English language, wth sn10ces lyk these. AAARGH. That probably makes the Queen cringe and Shakespeare turn in his grave (The author is well aware that Shakespeare couldn't even spell his name right, let alone other words. However, he is unable to think of a suitable name to use. You are requested to pick an English great of choice to replace the poorly chosen Shakespeare.). Even a purist like me is willing to accept such spelling in short messages, but it starts becoming scary when you read these spellings in official letters. And Examination Papers. And on the News. And in magazines. Where will this end?

Language is a gift. A gift that has led mankind to where we are now. We must not, must not, let this gift go in vain by terribly mutilating it.
< /Rant >

*Sigh*. Like that will make any difference.

New Display Pic

2008-02-27T21:36:00.000+05:30

Finally, it is complete.

What you see to the right (or the left, if you're a bat (that isn't flying)), is my new display pic. A friend (who the author would like to call KhaGaM, since he is unsure how the said friend will react to use of his name) drew this brilliant sketch during an english lecture, a long long time ago (in a galaxy far far away...). In a weird sort of way, this pic is the inspiration for how I define a Grey Sith. The sketch was drawn during an english lecture (delivered by a teacher we shall call 'Ric Flair'), in a borrowed textbook. The borrowed textbook belongs to another friend (who, for similar reasons will be referred to as L) Here's a better look:

Credits for this nice bit of art roll as follows:
KhaGaM (of course)
L (The nice guy who spent a lot of time taping together the paper on which this was drawn and the photographing it from "odd and awkward angles to get the lighting right")
Ric Flair (Without whom KhaGaM wouldn't have been bored enough to attempt this)

Drive

2008-02-26T20:53:00.000+05:30

Drive. It's an important sort of thing. And it would be, since the drive(train) connects the engine to the rear wheels and that's what finally gets you motion. A good drive(train) will give you a fabulous sense of acceleration. So the thing about drive(tra...

Naah. Just screwing with you...
What I really feel like writing about is drive. Others ofcourse can call it desire. But I'll stick with drive. It's what really gets you to work. I remember, not so long ago, when the all-important drive was ever-present. No longer. If you were to plot a graph of my drive vs time, (The author is fully aware that you, the reader are most likely a sane person, and wouldn't sketch such meaningless graphs for yourself, let alone for him.) this is what you'd end up with:

It's not that the drive deserts me. It doesn't. It just behaves of it's own free will. Does what it wants. Drives me to work one moment, and then *poof* it's gone. Like it were never there. And I can't even work with the reduced drive, by taking say an arithmetic mean, or the root mean square of the drive you see on the graph. I can only work in that little window provided between the red lines (And thank god for that. (Thank you, god!)).

But aah. This probably made no sense to you at all... Which is fine. A little madness is what I need.

Riding Fit!

2008-02-22T13:56:00.000+05:30

I had a fit while riding my bike. No I didn't. Just joking. Couldn't resist the pun on fit.

So finally! Fit to ride a two wheeled vehicular object safely on city roads again! It's been a while (since I can hold my head up high (sorry! It's an amazing song. Later) ) coming too. Makes you appreciate how much of a gift a fully functional body is. As I type this out, I'm still unable to lift heavy things... But it's an improvement. There was a time, not so long ago, when typing one handed was my only option. And that I can assure you is painful. And slow.

It's been a long road to recovery. Its not the big things that irk you, it's the small ones. Like not being able to squeeze out toothpaste. Like not being able to tie shoelaces. That's changing now. The hand is recovering. I'm going to (reload,) rev up and ride out! Have learnt a few things too.

1. Wear a helmet. Always. Even if you're just popping down to the grocery store half a kilometre away.

2. Keep your eyes peeled. Frequently, it's not your mistakes that will get you on the road, but those of others on the road.

3. Realise this : Bad luck will catch you before your lack of skill does.

Oh and the song! That's a Staind song that goes by the name of 'It's been a while'. Give it a listen sometime.

Coincidences - Part 2

2008-02-16T22:32:00.001+05:30

It's really odd. Yesterday, I'd posted about coincidences. And surprisingly (not?) I stumbled upon another coincidence, within a matter of a few minutes... What's going on?

This time, I was reading up on the 'Drake Equation'. It's a famous result, that gives the number of alien intelligences that may be present in our galaxy. It is based on as many as seven factors. Needless to say that the values taken for these seven factors are mostly based on the guesstimates of Frank Drake, rather than any scientific data. It is still an interesting result. According to Frank Drake, we should have about 10 communicating intelligences in our galaxy. Current estimates of the values put the result at a dismal 2. Then again, at least 2 is a number that doesn't really disagree with the Fermi paradox, which I might talk about later... For now, here's the Drake equation:

The coincidence rises from the fact that yesterday I was reading my favourite web comic, xkcd, and what is the first strip I see based on? The Drake Equation of course! It puzzles me a little, the rate at which these coincidences are happening. But ah well... Here's the comic:

Oh and by the way, xkcd is a really great web comic. Give it a visit once in a while. You won't be disappointed.

Coincidences

2008-02-15T22:07:00.001+05:30

Coincidences. They happen all the time. Like Now. I have really no idea why I wrote about chaos and fractals the other day (And if I did, I wouldn't tell you. That would make this post a waste, no?). I just did. And then the next day, I up reading about Ultra Fractal. So yeah, what's Ultra Fractal?

It's a nifty bit of software, that makes graphs out of fractals for a living. So you, can now make art out of maths. And it works. You can make truly wonderful images from this software. And the best part is, you can even add your own fractal equations. And if you're not into maths, you can get many equations from the community.

Though you know why this post is really here. It's because ultra fractal incorporates the Mandelbrot set. And I love the Mandelbrot set.

A few samples of Fractal Art...

This stuff I found... Jawdropping eh? Especially for maths.

The Weather is not simple

2008-02-13T21:22:00.001+05:30

I'd said before that weather was simple. And then said it wasn't. So that needs clarifying. Weather is, in a word, complex. Scientists have been working out ways to predict the weather for a looong time. And a pioneer of this field was a guy named Edward Lorenz. He started out trying to find patterns in meteorological data. As Lorenz studied weather patterns he began to realize that the weather did not always change as predicted. Minute variations in the initial values of variables in his twelve variable computer weather model would result in grossly divergent weather patterns. And that's only (yes, only) twelve variables. The man wasn't even close to predicting weather (Man still isn't). Instead, for all his effort, he got a graph that looks like this :

That is a part of the foundation of a subject now popularly known as chaos theory (At this point, the author would like you to understand that he has no idea what chaos theory is. He only rather fancies the Mandelbrot set, which he shall talk about in a bit). Chaos theory is the study of dynamical systems that are very sensitive to initial conditions. They never (ever ever) reach a steady state. Basically, there's no random element. Any state of the system can be calculated from the initial conditions, but the differences caused by a slight change in these conditions cause the system to change so wildly (exponentially) that it gives an appearance of chaos. This state is known as deterministic chaos.

Later on, another mathematician working in the field of dynamics came up with the Mandelbrot set. That man, was Benoit Mandelbrot. And this is the Mandelbrot Set :
Its what they call a fractal. It's not really related to the chaos theory anymore, but it was once. The beauty of this fella here is that it's the graph of a simple function. The brilliance is in the fact that the graph is infinitely complex. You can keep zooming in, and you'll keep finding beautiful patterns...

Well. Ya. We started with weather. But the idea was to come to the Mandelbrot set eventually... Beautiful isn't it?

It's Such a Beautiful Day...

2008-02-12T22:28:00.000+05:30

It was last Monday. The most beautiful day I'd seen in a long time. And I couldn't ride. That's because my hand was hurt. But back to the day. It was really fabulous. Clear skies. Not too cold, not too hot. Just perfect. One of those days even Jughead would want to spend out in the open. One of those days when you just have to just look up at the heavens and mouth a quiet "Thank You".

That's what I thought anyway. I mentioned this in passing to a couple of friends. I got a sarcastic "Yes it is" *mocking grin*. Another said "Ah so she spoke to you today!" *cheeky grin* (The author would like to make clear that the aforementioned "she" is unknown to him and probably a figment of said friend's imagination). I was even scoffed at by my mum, when I made this suggestion.

No seriously. What is it with people these days? Are they so tied up with work that it's impossible to appreciate something as simple as the weather? (The author would also like to let you know that he is aware that weather is not a simple thing. He will clear that bit up with a forthcoming post.) So lost in their own world that not even a grudging look can be spared for the sky?

It's scary really. Where are we going with this? It's bad enough people won't even notice the weather (Unless it's raining. In which case the weather notices you. Not the other way around), but how can you not notice it when it is pointed out to you? Can you really miss the blue skies? Can you really overlook the pleasant breeze? I thought not, but I've been given a sudden jolt back to reality (ironically, one that jolts me away from reality). There's no time for this anymore. I'm in shock really. There's only one thing to do. The next time I'm blessed with such a day, I'll make polite gestures at the world. And go off on my bike... to wherever the road may lead me.

Pilot

2008-02-12T22:08:00.000+05:30

So this is it then. The pilot of Grey Sith. Those of you who saw Err? and thought it was the pilot, well it wasn't. It was my 'What the Random?' moment of that day. I'm allowed those you know.

So yes. Pilot. Focus. Yes. Focus. Focus is vital in the force sensitive. And it fails me. All the time. Like now. What is focus then? *Suffers greater loss of focus*

Grrhk.
I'll talk of the Grey Sith then. The Grey Sith is a new sith order, formed by me, Darth Krijn. The basic principles of a grey sith are simple. A grey sith is a moderate sith. One who imbibes the principles of the sith, but does not practice them to the hilt. The right word probably is dispassionate. Almost in contradiction of the Sith code.

And with that slice of think-pie, I'll leave you for now. To Meditate in my chamber. To Focus.